


Two of Hearts

by pure1magination



Series: Hearts 'verse [1]
Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Fantastic Four (Movies 2005-2007), Gambit (Comic), X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gambit-centric, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Torture, cosmic radiation, dubious cures for superpowers, the fabric of space-time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 47,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pure1magination/pseuds/pure1magination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four X-Men return from a mission forever changed. A sinister plan takes shape. The fabric of space-time is compromised. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Johnny falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a fluffy Christmas fic, but then plot happened.

“Anotha’ good game,” Gambit remarked, shuffling a deck of cards, a smirk upturning his lips.

“I’ll say! You cleaned ‘em out like a bandit!” Ben Grimm twisted the knob and closed the door behind them. “You sure you aren’t cheatin’?”

“Homme!” Gambit’s hand flew to his chest in mock offense. “Ya wound me! Ah would _nevah!”_ With a wink and a flourish, an ace appeared from his sleeve. He smoothly transferred it to the deck.

Ben snorted. “If we weren’t splittin’ the pot, I’d clobber you.”

Gambit pocketed the deck and shrugged, hands out. “Fair’s fair, non?”

“Long as it stays 50/50.” Ben narrowed his eyes at him.

Gambit held up his hands a little higher. “You, Ah’d _nevah_ cheat. We’re _friends,_ homme!” He gave Ben his most convincing reassuring smile.

“You were gonna split it 55/45 again and think I wouldn’t notice, weren’t’cha.”

Gambit sighed, lowering his hands. “Ya noticed dat, huh?”

“I noticed,” Ben confirmed. “And I was countin’ this time, so I know _exactly_ what you owe me.”

“Saves me some math.” Gambit smiled.

Ben rolled his eyes again, fondly. He lifted his head. “Wow. It’s really coming down.”

“It’s beautiful, non?” Gambit held out a partially gloved hand to catch a snowflake. It melted on his palm.

“Yeah,” Ben grunted. “Really pretty to slog through.” He dragged his large rocky feet through the snow a bit, just to illustrate his point.

“Aw, don’ walk like tha’, mon ami. You’ll tire yoh’self out.” Gambit stepped as lightly as he could, but he did find himself having to pick up his feet a little extra with each step. The sidewalk was already a few inches deep.

“I’m shovelin’ a path for ya.” Ben dragged his feet on purpose, leaving two wide trails behind him.

Gambit had to admit, it was effective. He could walk normally now. “..Merci.”

“Welcome,” Ben grumbled.

They walked in companionable silence for a few blocks. The wind picked up. Remy hugged himself. Even shielded by Ben, he was accumulating snow on his jacket and in his hair. His teeth clattered against each other, no matter how much he tried to stop them.

“Is that your teeth I hear chatterin’ back there, or are you practicin’ percussion with your mouth?”

“It don’ get cold like dis on de Bayou.” Remy hugged himself tighter.

The temperature was dropping by the minute. Ben was unaffected by the cold; he wore clothes as a formality, and had foregone a coat.

Gambit, on the other hand… “Don’ suppose we could stop somewhere fo’ a cup a’ coffee?”

“Coffee place is closed.” The lights were out on nearly every business along the stretch—not surprising, considering it was late at night. A gust of wind pelted them with snowflakes like sand. Ben squinted against the wind. Snow was drifting against the sides of the buildings. The sidewalk ahead was at least six inches deep.

Ben glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t suppose you’d want to crash at my place?”

Gambit was huddled into himself, teeth chattering, eyes tired. “Ah’ll be fine. Jus’ need tu call mah ride.”

“You can use my phone.”

Gambit didn’t argue.

Ben continued slogging his way through the snow, digging out a path for Gambit by dragging his feet. Even his rocky skin was starting to feel the cold. Snow accumulated in the cracks.

Gambit bravely staggered on, coat whipping about his legs in every gust of wind. Snow collected in his hair.

“We’re almost there,” Ben grunted over his shoulder.

Gambit didn’t respond. He just kept walking. His legs were getting stiff.

Ben grumbled something about idiots wearing leggings in winter.

A few blocks later, Ben stopped in front of a doorway and knocked. Gambit shivered beside him.

The door opened to reveal a brightly lit interior, heavy on the silver. In the doorway stood Susan Storm. “Ben!” she greeted with surprise and relief. “Where have you been?”

“Out with the boys,” Ben replied easily, stepping inside. He did his best to shake off the snow. “Hate it when snow melts in the cracks,” he grumbled.

“Gambit?” Susan greeted with equal surprise.

“Oh. Right. Susan, Gambit. Gambit, Susan,” Ben introduced gruffly.

“We’ve met,” Susan said, holding the door open.

Gambit shuffled inside, still shivering and clinging tightly to his own arms.

“JOHNNY!” Susan bellowed.

A very energetic, way-too-awake-for-this-hour Johnny Storm bounded into the room, looking slightly scared. “What!”

“Warm this guy up.” She indicated the very shivering Gambit as she closed the door behind him.

“On it!” Johnny mock-saluted his sister and was at Gambit’s side in seconds. “Damn. You’re really cold!” he commented, steering ‘this guy’ towards the couch. “Who’s the hobo?” he asked over his shoulder at Ben and Susan.

“Ah’m not a hobo,” Gambit muttered, teeth chattering.

“Uh.” Johnny ticked off on his fingers. “Fingerless gloves, trench coat, long hair, stubble. –Who’s the hobo?” Johnny asked, louder, as he sat Gambit down on the couch and plopped down right next to him, gradually cranking up his body temperature.

“His name’s Gambit,” Ben grunted. “He’s a buddy of mine.”

“Since when do you make friends with hobos? –Whoa! Hey!” Johnny interjected, surprise blazing across his face as Gambit leaned into him. “Uhhh.” Gambit moaned and wrapped his arms around Johnny. Johnny awkwardly patted Gambit on the back.

“He’s not a hobo,” Ben grumbled.

Gambit was getting very snuggly with Johnny, and Johnny was equal parts awkward and surprised by just how physically close Gambit decided to get. He concentrated on maintaining this body temperature, since it seemed to be thawing this guy out pretty well, but he’d never been this physically close with a guy before. “Seems a pretty friendly type,” Johnny replied, voice strangled.

Gambit hummed against Johnny’s ribs in apparent agreement.

“’s why we’re friends,” Ben said as though that explained everything. “You seen Reed?”

“Reed’s caught in a meeting,” Susan explained, chagrined. “He phoned a little while ago and said he’ll have to stay in a hotel overnight. This storm’s pretty widespread.”

“Hm,” Ben grunted.

“Mah ride,” Gambit mumbled, face stiff. “Ah still have tu call mah ride.”

“I’ll call ‘em for you,” Ben offered. “Who d’you gotta call?”

“It’s all right.” Susan laid a hand on Ben’s arm. “I’ll call.”

Ben shrugged, masking his relief. Always hated phones. “’f you insist.”

“Anyone at de Xavier Institute,” Gambit said over Johnny’s shoulder. He buried his face against Johnny’s chest as though he couldn’t bear to leave it. He groaned with relief as soon as his face was warmly submerged once more.

“I’ll be right back,” Susan promised, exiting the room.

“…You want some hot cocoa or somethin’?” Ben offered awkwardly.

Gambit shot him a thumbs-up over the back of the couch, then buried his arms against Johnny once more.

Ben shuffled out of the room.

Johnny spent a few seconds staring at random objects in every corner of the room, focusing on maintaining his current temperature. It was definitely weird having another guy so close, especially some guy he didn’t know. His heart was beating too fast and he _knew_ Gambit could hear it, so he talked over it in order to distract both of them from the awkward situation. “Uh. So, Gambit, huh? Musta’ had a weird mom to name you that.”

Gambit lifted his head a fraction. “She didn’.”

“Oh.” And wow, now that this guy didn’t look half-dead from impending frostbite, he was actually pretty—“So what _did_ she name you?”

Gambit’s mouth upturned in a smirk. His red-and-black eyes _smoldered_. “Remy LeBeau,” he purred with a voice like velvet, “At your service.”

Johnny stared, spellbound. This guy had the handsomest cheekbones he’d ever fucking seen. And that stubble was only doing him favors. And that chin, _god!_ “Johnny Storm,” he replied dumbly.

“Johnny,” the man repeated in that same low, smooth voice. “It’s a pleasuh tu meet you.”

“Th-the pleasure’s all mine!”

He leaned closer to the blushing blond. “You’re a little warm,” he purred.

Johnny’s Adam’s apple bobbed visibly as he swallowed, eyes darting over and over Remy’s face.

“Gambit,” Ben grumbled from the doorway. “Turn down the charm.”

Remy broke eye contact and pushed out his lower lip in a pout. “Aw. You nevah let me have any fun.”

Johnny stared at him, dazed. “Charm?”

“It’s one of his powers,” Ben explained as he set down two steaming mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table.

“Powers?”

Remy untangled himself from Johnny just enough to pick up his mug of hot cocoa. “Ah’m one o’ de X-Men,” Remy explained. He blew on the surface of his cocoa and tested a sip.

“Uh huh,” Ben agreed, crossing his arms. He sounded amused though. “And his powers include energy manipulation, control over kinetic energy, and the ability to charm people.”

Johnny watched Remy take a sip of hot cocoa. He was still sitting very close to Johnny, touching from shoulder to thigh, eyes mostly closed as he watched the liquid in his mug disappear. His throat moved with every swallow. “How long does it take to wear off?” Johnny wondered aloud.

“A few minutes,” Remy replied casually, sounding pretty sure.

“Oh.” Johnny tore his gaze away from the ridiculously attractive man next to him and groped for the remaining mug on the coffee table.

Just as he brought the mug to his lips, Susan re-entered the room, expression grim.

“No ride?” Gambit guessed.

Susan pressed her lips together. “Scott said they won’t be able to send anyone until the storm is over.”

“When’s it supposed ta end?” Ben asked.

“Tomorrow morning.” Susan sat on a nearby armchair.

“Well,” Remy said, stretching out comfortably next to Johnny, who still couldn’t stop staring at him, “Ah guess Ah’ll have tu spend the night.”

“We have a couch,” Ben grunted.

“If that’s all righ’?” Gambit sent a questioning glance at Susan.

“Of course.” She frowned. “Johnny, stop staring.”

Johnny looked away too fast, face reddening as both Ben and Remy turned their attention on him.

“Has it been a few minutes yet?” Ben wondered.

“Some brains are slower dan others,” Gambit allowed, unbothered.

Johnny frowned, not sure if he’d just been insulted. “Hey,” he objected before getting caught up in Remy’s eyes.

Gambit smirked.

“You charmed him?” Susan guessed.

Remy shrugged one shoulder. “He seemed tu feel awkward abou’ warming me up. Ah was tryin’ tu make it easier on ‘im.”

Susan arched an eyebrow. Her brother was once again staring at Remy like he was the most beautiful thing in the universe. She almost found it funny. “It’s not going to hurt his feelings, is it? When it wears off?”

“Aw, non, chère!” Gambit assured her. “’e’ll jus’ be a little confused.”

“So, no different from usual,” Ben grunted.

“Ben!” Susan objected.

Ben gave her a look which plainly said he wasn’t retracting that statement.

Gambit chuckled. “Little on the slow side, are you, cher?” he purred at Johnny.

Johnny stared dumbly at him, face hot.

“Gambit,” Susan reprimanded, “I told you turn off the charm!”

“Ah did.” He smirked. “It jus’ hasn’ worn off yet.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Ben supplied.

“Ben!” Susan objected.

“You gonna finish dat cocoa, cher?” Gambit asked, leaning close to Johnny and peering into his mug.

Johnny glanced at his mug like he’d forgotten he’d had it. “Uh. You can have it.” He held out his mug towards Gambit. Their fingers met.

Gambit’s expression flickered for a split second. Johnny took his hands back like he’d just been bitten and tried not to stare, but his eyes kept flickering back as though he couldn’t control them.

Gambit sipped from the mug, overlapping the part where Johnny’s mouth had been.

“So Reed’s at a conference?” Ben prompted.

“Yes,” Susan confirmed, frowning. “He needed to meet with a bunch of senators in order to discuss clean energy.”

“Oh,” Remy grumbled. _“That_ conference.”

“You’ve heard about it?” Susan sat forward a bit.

“Heard Senator Kelly was dere. ‘e’s up tu no good.”

“Senator Kelly?” Ben raised a rocky brow ridge. “The mutant-hating senator?”

“Dat’s de one,” Remy confirmed, frowning.

“I’m sure Reed can handle him,” Susan said generously.

“Dat, Ah’m no’ worried about,” Gambit said, draining the last of his cocoa and setting the mug on the coffee table. “It’s wha’ he’s doin’ _behin’_ de scenes dat concerns me.”

“You think he’s got another anti-mutant plan up his ass?”

“Ben! Language!”

 “’e seems too happy lately,” Gambit answered. “ _Somethin’s_ up.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you and your X-Men can fix it,” Susan smoothed over soothingly. She had complete and utter faith in them.

“Maybe,” Gambit granted, “but Ah’m still worried.”

“I’ll try to see if Reed knows anything when he comes home tomorrow,” Susan promised.

“Merci, chère.”

“Hm,” Ben grunted. “He’s slower than I thought.” He was watching Johnny, who was still gazing starry-eyed at Gambit.

Gambit glanced over at Johnny, one handsome brow arched. “’e’ll be better in the morning.”

“He better be. This is gettin’ weird.”

“You don’t have a _problem_ with homosexuality, do you, Ben?” Susan asked in her you’d-better-not-challenge-me voice.

“No!” Ben quickly answered, holding up his huge rocky hands in defense, “I don’t! But I ain’t never seen Johnny look twice at a bloke before, and now he won’t _stop_ lookin’!”

“That is a little weird,” Susan granted. “I thought your power only worked on women?”

Remy shrugged. “Works on whoever Ah want it to.” He didn’t add that it’s usually easier when there’s mutual attraction.

Johnny was still watching Remy, seemingly oblivious to the conversation.

“I don’t know how much more of that I can take.” Ben stood, sending Johnny a narrow-eyed look somewhere in the neighborhood of disgust. “He’d better be all skirt-chasin’ in the morning. Till then, I’m out.” He lumbered off in the general direction of his sleeping quarters.

“Bonne nuit, Ben!” Remy called after him cheerfully.

“It _will_ wear off in the morning, won’t it?” Susan half-fretted, half-warned.

“Mos’ likely,” Remy granted with a shrug. “It usually does.”

Susan stood with a sigh. “Come on, Johnny. You’ll see Remy again in the morning.”

Johnny resisted. “I’m not even tired!”

Susan tugged his arm. “No, but you _will_ be!”

“It’s not like I got anywhere to go tomorrow! Everywhere’ll be closed!”

“Johnny,” Susan warned.

“What! You’re not my mom! I’m twenty-three, I can take care of myself!”

Susan glared protectively at her brother, I-know-best etched across her features.

“Let ‘im stay,” Gambit soothed.

Susan frowned. “Are you sure? He’s not going to… Bother you, is he?”

“He’s fine,” Gambit assured her. He sent Johnny a smoldery smile.

Johnny stared, spellbound.

Susan sighed deeply. “All right. But we do have cameras in this room, so don’t try anything funny.”

Gambit turned serious. “Ah would nevah.”

Susan considered this. “…All right.”

After she left, Gambit contemplated Johnny for a moment. “Well, if you’re not tired, and _Ah’m_ not tired… Wha’ do you say to a game of cards?”

* * *

Johnny awoke the next morning feeling extremely comfortable and well-rested. His cheek was pressed against a firm, yet soft surface which steadily rose and fell in a familiar, soothing rhythm. His arms were wrapped around someone warm. And someone’s arms were draped easily around his back; someone’s chin rested on the top of his head.

Johnny sat up quickly, staring in panic at the man underneath him. Face like a marble statue, _body_ like a marble statue, red-and-black eyes opening to gaze languidly up at him—“Holy shit!” Johnny scrambled backwards off the couch. “You’re--! You’re--! You’re--!”

Remy sat up slowly, hungry and in need of coffee. “Ah’m what, mon ami?”

Johnny stared, wide-eyed, for a moment without answering. “I’m going to the kitchen,” he announced abruptly. He turned around, ears red, and headed stiffly towards the kitchen.

Remy stretched. He figured the charm had probably worn off, and that Johnny felt awkward, realizing he’d spent the night cuddling up to a man he barely knew. He gave Johnny a couple minutes to gather his wits before joining him in the kitchen.

Johnny nearly spat out his orange juice when he looked up and saw Remy standing there.

Remy smiled. “Got anything good tu eat?”

Johnny turned red and side-stepped, indicating the fridge.

Remy opened the door and took note of its contents, musing over what he could make. “You like pancakes?” he said at last, looking to Johnny for an answer.

Johnny’s face lit up. “Boy, _do_ I!”

Remy couldn’t help smiling back. “All right den!” He gathered the ingredients.

Johnny hung around near him and started offering to help. Figuring it couldn’t hurt, Remy obliged and told Johnny how he could assist him. Soon, they had the batter ready and the griddle warm.

“Want some toast?” Johnny offered with a grin.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “To go with _pancakes?”_

“Yeah!” At Remy’s skeptical look, he pouted and whined, “Aw, come _on,_ man!”

Remy rolled his eyes, charmed despite himself. “All righ’,” he relented.

Johnny beamed and took out a slice of bread. “Check it out!” He held the bread between his hands. His hands glowed orange. He held the bread there for a couple minutes before extinguishing the glow. He brandished the golden-brown toasted bread in front of Remy’s face.

Remy grabbed the toast; Johnny gave it to him. “Please tell me ya washed your hands first.”

Johnny rolled his eyes dramatically.

Remy chuckled and spread butter on his toast. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Johnny watched him with breathless anticipation. Remy swallowed. “It’s good!”

Johnny beamed. “Want some more?”

“Ah think,” Remy said, flipping two pancakes onto a tray and pouring two more on the griddle, “the pancakes will be enough.” He glanced up at Johnny. “But de toast is very good.”

Johnny practically glowed. “I knew you’d like it!”

Remy waited for the pancakes to be ready to flip. Conversationally, he said, “So dat’s your power, huh? You can get really warm?” He was partially teasing.

Johnny took the bait and scoffed. “Oh, I can do _way_ more than that!” He proceeded an energetic ramble about all the things he could do with his powers, including create objects out of fire, exceed the temperature of a supernova, cancel out heat so he never got burned, and suck all the heat out of a room. Remy was intrigued by this last one, and Johnny explained eagerly, “Yeah! Turns out, I can do more than just catch on fire! I can control, like, temperature in general! It’s really cool! Or hot. Depending on how I want it.” He grinned proudly.

By this time, the tray was stacked pretty high with pancakes and the batter was running low. “Ah nevah woulda guessed.”

Johnny beamed again, puffing his chest out with pride. “-What about you?” he challenged, like there was no way anyone’s powers could _possibly_ be as cool as his own. “What can _you_ do?”

“Ah,” said Remy, flipping the last two pancakes onto the tray, “can make some pretty good pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Susan asked sleepily as she walked in, still wearing her robe.

“Plenty to share,” Remy agreed smoothly, indicating the tray.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Johnny said with a grin, stacking several pancakes onto his plate and slathering them with butter and maple syrup.

The three of them gathered around the table and ate pancakes in companionable silence, with occasional interjections (mostly from Johnny) about how good the pancakes were. Ben shuffled in when the tray was about half-empty and ate the rest of them by himself.

The first four notes of the Kim Possible theme went off, then repeated.

Remy perked up and fished around in his pockets until he produced his cell phone. He swiped his thumb across the screen and the Kim Possible theme stopped. “Bonjour?”

Johnny was staring at Remy with rapt admiration again.

Ben and Susan half-listened to Remy’s conversation, both already pretty sure they knew who it was.

“Yep, Ah’m at de Fantastic Four hangout. …All righ’. Ah’ll see you in a bit.” He hung up. To the questioning glances, he answered, “It was Jubilee. But don’ worry—Kitty’s driving.”

“Picked up by two young girls,” Ben grunted. “Typical.”

 “Dey are like _daughters_ tu me!” Remy insisted.

“Is _that_ why you hang out with ‘em all the time,” Ben grumbled.

“Ah can hang ou’ wit’ family.” Remy crossed his arms across his chest.

Ben just grunted again.

“So you’re going?” Johnny asked, looking rather down-in-the-mouth.

“Yes, cher. Ah’m goin’,” Remy said gently.

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink, gaze off to the side. “I don’t remember much of last night. But I think you showed me some card tricks…”

Remy’s mouth curled up on one side. “You wan’ one for de road?”

Johnny sent him a hopeful, pleading look.

Remy’s smile warmed. He took the deck out of his chest pocket and shuffled it. He fanned the cards out in an arc and held them out in front of him. “Pick a card.”

Johnny hesitated, then picked a card at random, a little to the left. It was the two of hearts. He regarded the card with surprise and just a bit of disgust; he hoped the low number value wasn’t going to be a problem. “Okay…”

Remy folded the deck. “Now give it back tu me.” He held out a hand.

A little relieved, Johnny handed the card back.

Remy performed a showy shuffling trick which was much more visually appealing than it was practical, pulling the cards out into a column between his hands, sending them down one arm, then down the other, shuffling them behind his head and over his shoulder, and then he did something complicated with his hands and pulled out the card. He held it out at arm’s length. “Is dis your card?”

Johnny stared at the two of hearts. “YES!” he exalted.

Remy smirked and handed the card to Johnny. “Keep it.”

Johnny took the card like he was being handed the Holy Grail.

“A souvenir,” Remy said warmly.

The Kim Possible theme went off.

Remy glanced at his phone and silenced the music. “That’s my ride.” He gave them a two-finger salute. “Ah’ll see ya ‘round.”

“Drive safe!” Susan urged.

Remy held up two fingers without looking as he walked away, a silent promise to tell the girls to drive safely.

Johnny stared after him until Remy was gone.

“I thought the charm was supposed to wear off by now,” Susan said in a low voice that Johnny wasn’t supposed to hear.

“It did.”

* * *

Reed arrived a little before noon, face sour. Susan greeted him at the door. “Did the meeting go well?”

Reed shed his coat; Susan took his coat and hung it up. “Oh, the meeting went well,” Reed said bitterly, “Right up until the point where we realized we were going to be snowed in, and we decided to take a little coffee break, and Senator Kelly pulled me aside to talk about politics.”

Susan frowned in alarm. “Senator Kelly? What did he say?”

Reed sighed. “Oh, the usual anti-mutant spiel. Asked if I wouldn’t be more comfortable, knowing they were off the streets, a neutralized threat. He doesn’t seem to consider _us_ mutants, evidently.”

“Perhaps that’s a good thing.”

“Only if you _like_ hearing some of your closest friends insulted, treated like rabid animals. I’m telling you, Sue, the man is dangerous.”

“I’m sure he means well…”

Reed slammed his boot against the wall. “Means well?!” he repeated. “Maybe to people whose heads are stuck so far—back in the dark ages, that they think anyone different than them ought to be imprisoned, or worse!” He sat down heavily in his arm chair.

Susan sat next to him, placing both of her hands over one of his. “It can’t be that bad…”

“Why are you defending him?!”

“I’m not!”

“Stop trying to see the good in people, Susan! It’s not there!” Reed glared darkly at the carpet, seemingly lost in thought.

“…What did he say?” Susan repeated quietly.

Reed rubbed his forehead. “Something about a satellite. The way he phrased it was so—“ Reed cut himself off suddenly, eyes widening. “I know what he means to do.”

“Honey?”

“Get me a line to Charles Xavier!” Reed insisted suddenly, standing and pacing across the room.

The computer system, keyed to his voice, called Charles Xavier on the video phone. A glowing image appeared on the opposite wall. “Yes, what is it, Reed?” the professor asked.

“Professor! I’ve just been in a meeting with Senator Kelly. I have coordinates for a satellite which he created. He’s kept it under wraps and means to reveal it soon, at a press conference, under the guise of Public Protection,” he spat. “It’s an anti-mutant satellite. He said something about _monitoring_ you, all of you, and finding all the mutants on earth. The public would be made aware of their identities and locations. But that’s not all. I think the satellite is equipped with weapons set to exterminate mutantkind.”

Charles blinked in alarm. “Reed, are you _sure?”_

“I know what I heard,” Reed confirmed grimly.

“I see…” Charles steepled his fingers. “What are those coordinates?”

Reed held up a piece of paper.

Charles examined the sheet and nodded. “Thank you. We will assemble a team and look into it. If this is truly as dangerous as you says it is… Then we are in your debt.”

“Honestly I’m more concerned with your safety.”

“Again, thank you.” Charles nodded. “We’ll be in touch.” The glowing image blipped out.

* * *

“That’s the satellite, up there!” Emma announced, pointing at the large metal structure.

“That good for nothin’ _bastard!”_ Logan snarled, unsheathing his claws.

“Do you really think it’s as bad as Reed says?” Kurt wondered aloud, balancing upside-down on three fingers.

“I see no reason to doubt him,” Emma replied, grimly serious as their craft neared the satellite. “His team has been our allies so far.”

“But they don’t know what it’s _really_ like,” Logan ground out, glaring at the satellite. “They got their powers from some cosmic storm! They weren’t _born_ with ‘em!”

“You weren’t born with those claws,” Emma pointed out.

“Any friend of mah friend is a friend a’ mine,” Remy interjected in support of Reed. “Put on your space suits. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

“Not like it hasn’t been already,” Logan griped.

Their craft slowed. They all put on their space gear and climbed into the air lock.

Outside the space ship, they made their way to the satellite. The bulky structure had many protuberances, one of which Kurt was examining. “Zese are not merely cameras for monitoring!” He floated to another one. “Zey look like weapons!”

“The elf is right,” Logan confirmed. “This thing is _loaded._ ”

“What do we do?” Kurt asked fearfully.

“We disable it,” Emma said with a voice like ice.

“And which of you technical nerds has the know-how to do that? Oh wait- _none_ of you!”

“Hush, Logan! Let me concentrate.” Emma pressed her fingers to the sides of her bubble helmet, closing her eyes. Everyone fell silent as she concentrated.

After a long moment, she opened her eyes. “There.” She pointed. “That’s the control panel.”

“On it.” Remy reached out.

“What’re you gonna do, Cajun? Fry it?”

“Please.” Remy pulled it apart and disconnected wires systematically. “Give me some credit.”

“Vhere did you learn to do zat?” Kurt asked, impressed.

Remy shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Ah’ve broken into more complicated security systems before.”

“Once a thief, always a thief,” Logan growled.

“Comes in handy,” Remy said, unbothered.

“We need to neutralize the weapons,” Emma interjected.

“That, I can do.” Logan punctured the metal with his claws, ripped off the dangerous-looking parts, and hurled them in the general direction of the sun.

The sun was blazing, arcs of heat rolling all over its surface. Flares erupted occasionally. Arcs of colored light surged towards them. One was so powerful, it rocked the satellite.

“Whoa! Did anyone else feel tha’?” Remy squinted in the direction of the sun.

“Don’t look right at it, ya moron, you’ll go blind,” Logan growled.

“I felt it,” said Emma, wary. “We should go back to the ship. I think our work here is done.”

“Agreed, fraulein.”

They headed back to the ship. More colored waves surged towards them, growing progressively stronger. They buffeted the ship as it approached the Earth’s atmosphere. “I think we can outrun it,” Emma said through gritted teeth, with a tight grip on the controls.

“Whatever ‘it’ is,” said Logan, his hackles raised.

“It could simply be some sort of cosmic radiation,” supplied Kurt, “From the sun.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t wanna be in it,” Logan growled, gaze fixed on their destination.

They sped towards the earth. About halfway down, Emma broke into a cold sweat. She was finding it hard to focus on driving the ship. “I’m going to put it in autopilot,” she said. They were seventy thousand feet above the surface and dropping.

“Good call,” said Kurt, who was holding his head with both hands. “Oh, my head!”

“Ah don’ feel so good,” Remy complained, pale and sweaty like the other two.

“Somethin’ fishy’s going on. I don’t like it.” Logan made sure Emma had switched correctly to autopilot before she slumped over, apparently unconscious. He thumbed over the communications board and brought up a video image of Jean Grey. “Jean,” he said, starting to feel weak. Kurt fainted behind him.

“What is it, Logan? Are you all right?”

“We got the satellite. But somethin’… Somethin’ ain’t right…” Logan wobbled on his feet. He heard Remy hit the floor. The floor seemed to be tilting.

“I’ll send Storm out to help you. Maybe she can slow you down. –Logan? Logan! Are you all right?”

Logan weaved, knees buckling. “I’m… fine…” He tripped and pulled himself up, covered in a cold sweat. It was only a few seconds before he blacked out.

“Logan? Logan!” Jean called out a few more times, attempting to rouse the other members of the team, but upon receiving no response, she ended the call. Her image blipped off the screen, revealing instead an image of the speedily approaching ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite comic arc ever was a Fantastic Four x X-Men crossover in which four of the X-Men were hit with cosmic rays and gained the powers of the Fantastic Four. I always wished they'd done more with this story arc. I especially wished the afflicted X-Men had retained at least some of their cosmic abilities, or that they had teamed up with the Fantastic Four more in the future, but sadly the comic series was a oneshot, and as far as I know, it has never been alluded to since it happened. 
> 
> I've drawn on a lot of story arcs to create this fic/possible series, from comics, movies, and even bits from X-Men: The Animated Series. So for those of you familiar with the comics, you might recognize some allusions in here. Whether you recognize them or not, though, I really hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	2. Chapter 2

Ororo did her best to slow them down with wind, but the craft was still plummeting at an alarming rate. “Jean!” she bellowed.

Jean used her telekinetic abilities to harness the craft only a few hundred feet above the ground. She slowed it enough to crash with a dull thud, but she had no doubt jostled the people inside. She sent them a silent apology as she and Ororo warily approached the craft.

The door had been crushed upon landing, and it took more than their combined strength to fling it open. Jean had to once more invoke her telekinesis. But no sooner had she grabbed the door with her mind than three claws punctured it, and the door was flung several yards away by a snarling- “Logan?!” Jean asked with shock.

“Stand back!” Ororo urged, knocking her out of the way just as the mad-eyed Logan saw her and sent an oddly long arm in her direction. His claws pierced the ground. He retracted his arm as though it were made of rubber.

“Logan?” Jean asked again, horrified.

Wolverine yowled and bounded off in the direction of the forest, his limbs weirdly long and rubbery, claws slashing at everything in sight.

Jean and Ororo exchanged an alarmed glance.

Kurt appeared suddenly behind them. Then he disappeared and reappeared several yards away, seemingly flickering in and out of existence, his hands on his head as though trying to block out extreme pain. Sometimes it almost appeared as though he were in some sort of bubble.

“Kurt?” Ororo tried calling out to him, but Kurt didn’t seem to hear her.

“Oh, chère!” Remy moaned, holding his head as he stumbled down the ramp. “Ah don’ feel so good!” He flickered around the edges and suddenly ignited all over in purple flames. He stared at his hands as though they were suddenly alien.

When Jean tried to approach with a “Let me help you!” Remy lashed out with an arc of fire which Jean only narrowly escaped.

“What’s happened to them?!” Jean wondered aloud.

Kurt popped in and out of existence. Logan howled and ransacked the forest, his yowls echoing as he grew more distant. They could see him above the trees.

It wasn’t until a rock formation in a vague female shape stumbled out of the plane in Emma’s clothing that Ororo realized:

“Call the Fantastic Four.”

* * *

“What happened?!” Reed demanded as soon as he disboarded his aircraft.

“We don’t know,” said Ororo, “but it seems four of our X-Men have been afflicted with mutations very similar to your own.”

Jean was trying to call out to them with her telepathy, but to no avail. Nightcrawler was flickering in an out of existence, in a definite bubble now, just above their spacecraft. Gambit was flying in an erratic pattern over the clearing, shrouded in purple fire. They could still hear the crashes and distant yowls of Wolverine.

“So what do we do?” Johnny asked.

“Try to gather them here,” Ororo answered. “Scott will be here soon with an aircraft to take them back, but Jean and I have not managed to calm them down. We thought perhaps, since you have been through similar transformations, you would understand…”

Reed placed a hand on Ororo’s shoulder. “We’ll do our best.” Becoming very tall and stretchy, Reed squinted out at the forest. “I see Wolverine. I’ll go after him.” He bent down. “Susan, help Nightcrawler. Johnny, help Gambit. And Ben?” Reed looked around.

“Help Emma,” Ororo supplied. She pointed to what had heretofore appeared to be a pile of rocks near the downed spacecraft.

“My pleasure.” Ben lumbered off towards the distraught woman/ rock pile.

Johnny shouted “Flame on!” and ignited. He gave a little jump and flew towards Gambit.

Susan cautiously approached the spooked Nightcrawler.

Reed stalked off towards the forest.

It was easy for Reed to see over the trees, being this tall. He caught up to Logan in several long, easy strides and called out to him. Wolverine turned on him with glowing eyes.

“Kurt,” Susan said cautiously, holding out a hand towards him. “I’m here to help.” Kurt flickered in and out of existence a few feet away, hands over his head. He started to scream.

“Whoa!” Johnny ducked as Gambit flew just over his head. Gambit was zipping around like he had all the energy in the world. “All right, hot shot! You wanna race? You’re on!” He chased after Gambit and matched his speed, zigzagging wherever Gambit suddenly decided to go. There was no trace of humor in Gambit’s eyes. He glared at Johnny as though glaring straight through him. “Uh, guys?” he shouted, hoping someone would hear. “I think these guys are beyond reason!” He and Gambit wove around the top of a tree.

Ben knelt in front of Emma. “Hey.” He reached out a rocky hand. The whitish rocks constricted into a tighter pile. Ben sighed and retracted his hand. “Yeah.” His face fell. “I know what that’s like.”

Wolverine lashed out at Reed with claws that were much more elastic than they should be. His entire body was like rubber, his face carved in a perpetual snarl. The only vocalization he seemed capable of were gut-wrenching yowls and screams. He whipped around and around, decapitating trees. Reed had to duck and dodge and re-shape himself several times to avoid Logan’s claws. “You have to pull yourself together!” Reed was trying to tell him. “Literally! It’s like winding yourself back into a manageable form!” He ducked and dodged several more wild blows. Logan screamed, his agony and rage kicking up yet another notch, and lunged towards Reed.

“It’s okay,” Susan was saying, “You don’t have to be afraid.” Kurt surprised her by responding, through gritted teeth, that he wasn’t afraid, he was in _pain._

“What happened from the other night, man!” Johnny said as he dodged another punch from Gambit. “I thought we were friends!” Gambit, however, showed no sign of recognition.

“Yeah.. I hate being a rock, too,” Ben said sympathetically. The rock pile heaved a sob.

“All right,” said Reed, cradling a wound in his side, “No more Mister Nice Guy.” He acted as a human containment vessel and wrapped himself around Logan, _forcing_ him into a more manageable size. “I’m really sorry about this,” he apologized as he wound himself around Logan’s throat and squeezed.

“Focus on me,” Susan urged Kurt gently. “Push through the pain. Come on, you can do it!” Kurt seemed, at first, not to hear her, but his flickering grew less pronounced. He was here more often than there, hands still on the sides of his head, but notably not blocking his ears any longer. His face was twisted in agony.

“Ha!” Johnny said as he caught Remy from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. “Okay, how do I do this. Uh… _Flame off!”_ he tried. Remy struggled and turned up the heat. “Shit. Okay. Uhh.” He concentrated and absorbed all Gambit’s heat into himself. Gambit stopped struggling and pitched forward, limp. “All right!” he crowed. “It worked!” In his excitement, he threw both hands in the air and dropped Gambit.

Logan passed out, his regular size once more. Reed carried him back to the clearing.

Kurt shot Susan a pleading look before passing out in his bubble-shaped forcefield. Susan laid her hands on the bubble sympathetically.

Johnny swooped down and caught Gambit just before he hit the ground. He found himself carrying Gambit bridal style. Suddenly the world seemed to narrow and disappear around him. Every contact point with Gambit burned, even though he’d consciously extinguished his arms. He couldn’t help noticing the delicate shadows cast by Remy’s eyelashes where they lay against his cheekbones. The guy was actually quite pretty, when he wasn’t on fire and trying to beat the crap out of him.

Another aircraft landed in the clearing, near the scorched criss-crossing trails left behind by Johnny and Remy. Scott climbed out, ready for battle. “What happened?” he demanded.

“We’ve got it under control,” Reed announced, depositing the unconscious Logan at his feet.

“They’re in pain.” Susan lowered Kurt in his bubble. “I think they need help.”

Johnny snapped himself out of it and dropped Gambit on the ground in front of him. “Got ‘im!” Johnny announced, cheeks turning hot pink. He fidgeted. He really hoped no one had seen him just now. But everyone seemed to be in Serious Mode, so he figured he was probably off the hook.

“Come on,” Ben urged, holding out a hand towards the rock pile. The rock pile didn’t respond. He picked her up in what he hoped wasn’t an inappropriate way and set her down near the others.

“I’ll ask again,” Scott said, wary now instead of angry, “What happened?”

“As far as we can tell,” Ororo answered, “They’ve been afflicted with the same mutations as the Fantastic Four.”

“We think they might have been exposed to cosmic radiation,” Jean added.

“Like you?” Scott asked Reed.

“Like us,” Reed confirmed.

“We need to take them back to the lab for testing,” Jean announced.

“Agreed,” Scott confirmed. “I just hope we can get them there before they wake up.”

“I’ll contain them,” Susan offered. Force fields appeared around the four unconscious X-Men.

“I’ll help,” Jean offered. “If they become too much.”

Susan nodded.

“We’ll follow you in the jet,” Reed stated.

* * *

“How’s it lookin’, doc?” Ben asked as soon as Jean emerged from the room, still clad in her white lab coat.

Jean’s expression was troubled. “They’re still unstable. The cosmic radiation affected them differently than you because their DNA was already mutated. Yours accepted the cosmic mutations more easily; theirs—their bodies are fighting. The new powers and the older powers are too much for them to handle.”

“We will need to medicate them,” added Hank, stepping out of the room in his white lab coat and closing the door behind him.

“I had to sedate them using gas. Gambit and Emma couldn’t be injected.”

“Susan is transporting them to their cells right now,” Hank added. “So far, she is the only one who can contain them unless they are unconscious.”

“What makes ya think cells are gonna hold ‘em, then?” Ben pointed out, arms folded.

Jean hesitated. “The professor… had a conversation with Reed.” She glanced at Hank, uneasy.

“Reed believes he knows how to best contain… persons with your powers,” Hank explained.

“News to me,” Ben grunted.

“Well,” Hank explained further, “Reed Richards is very familiar with the effects of cosmic radiation on human beings. He knows the limitations of your powers. He also knows how best to neutralize them, so that Gambit, for example, cannot burn his way out of his cell, or otherwise melt or incinerate the walls.”

“Speakin’ of fireballs,” Ben grunted, “Has either of you seen Johnny?”

Jean glanced at Hank. “We thought he was with you.” She frowned. “I can call out to him, if you want.”

“Meh.” Ben waved a hand. “I’ll find ‘im. Just follow the trail of loud colors and bad jokes.” He wandered down the unfamiliar hallways, searching for familiar faces.

A conversation being held behind a closed door made him pause. Whatever was going on, it was getting tense.

“The collars will protect them,” Professor X was reassuring someone.

“Why would you want to use those?” Susan countered, angry. “Why did you even _keep_ those?! They’re dangerous!”

“Only in the wrong hands,” Professor X smoothed over. “I would like to think that if you could trust mutant lives in the hands of anybody, it would be me. I certainly have their best interests at heart.”

Susan’s reply was tense. “So you want to completely neutralize four of your X-Men.”

“We may be able to reconfigure them so that they don’t cancel out their mutant powers,” Reed spoke up, quiet.

_“Might,”_ Susan reiterated. “But there’s a chance they would cancel out their mutant powers, and they _wouldn’t_ cancel out their cosmic powers! What then?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Professor X replied calmly. “I have complete faith that Reed will find a solution.”

Thick silence built and spiked.

“You are aware,” Susan said in a dangerously quiet voice, “that if you rewire these collars to cancel out cosmic radiation- induced powers, that these collars could be used against us.”

“I know,” Reed replied just as quietly, “but I trust him. He’s trying to help them.”

“…Fine.” Susan’s voice was cold. “But as soon as we’ve found a cure, those collars get destroyed.”

“Sue…”

Ben walked away. He didn’t want to hear the rest.

He’d found two of the Fantastic Four, but there was still no sign of Flame Boy. On a wild hunch, he decided to find the containment cells. “Hey,” he said, stopping a black-haired girl in a yellow trench coat. She skidded to a stop in her sneakers. She must’ve had those rollers-on-the-bottom ones.

“Sup!” She popped her gum.

“Where are the containment cells? Wanna pay Emma a visit.”

“They’re right down this way!” She pointed. “You’re that guy from The Fantastic Four, right?” She held out her hand to shake. “My name’s Jubilee!”

Ben shook her tiny hand in his huge rocky one. “Ben Grimm.”

She grinned. “Nice ta meetcha!” She took her hand back. “Down that hallway, there’s an elevator. Press the button that says ‘B12.’ You can’t miss it!”

“Thanks.” Ben lumbered to the elevator. He hated elevators. He pushed about four buttons with his huge finger, but one of them was B12, so he shrugged internally and figured he’d just ride out the few extra stops.

Ding!

…

Ding!

The elevator dinged pointlessly at the three floors Ben didn’t want to go to. The doors opened, waited for nobody, then closed.

Finally, he arrived at B12. He found himself in a large chrome hallway. Standing about halfway down on the left side was a familiar figure, his hand resting against the wall, staring contemplatively through some very thick glass at the cell’s dark interior.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Ben rumbled.

Johnny sprang away from the glass, looking vaguely guilty. “Ben! Jeez you scared the _crap_ outta me!”

“Sorry,” Ben said, not sorry. He peered into the dark cell. Near the back, Gambit’s familiar form was slumped over, clad in Johnny’s old Fantastic Four jumpsuit. The red one. “Nice outfit,” he grunted.

“Well I’m not wearin’ it anymore and he needed something flame-proof and I knew where it was and I don’t really care if he borrows it, it’s not like _I’m_ gonna wear it anymore, besides that thing’s dorky and I like the one I’ve got right now,” Johnny rambled, words pouring out quickly like he couldn’t stop them.

“Suits him,” Ben interrupted, amused. “Why’re you still here if he’s unconscious?”

Johnny cleared his throat. “I was, uh… Well, I was just… uh…” His face heated until his head was engulfed in bright orange flames. “Well, you know, the—I, uh…” He shifted awkwardly.

Ben raised his brow ridge. “…You don’t say.”

“Anyway! What, uh—what are _you_ doin’ down here?”

Ben settled his attention elsewhere, taking in the locations of the other three X-Men. “Came to scope out the place. Heard we might be here a while.”

“Yeah?” Johnny tried not to sound too hopeful.

“Yeah. Reed’s workin’ on a cure, an’ Susan’s the only one who can get close to ‘em.”

“I can get close to him,” Johnny argued, indicating Gambit. At Ben’s look, he hurriedly explained, “We got the same powers. I can neutralize ‘im.”

“Hm.” Ben scrutinized Johnny’s posture and expression much more thoroughly than Johnny was comfortable with.

“So! You see any food around here?” Johnny asked way too loudly.

Ben decided to let it drop. “Ya know? I think I may have seen a kitchen around here somewhere…”

* * *

Ben wasn’t sure about the others, but he suffered insomnia. Being made almost entirely out of rock, well. It made him question a lot of things. He was willing to wager that Emma was the same way.

And sure enough, although the others were asleep- no doubt still knocked out by the dose of sedatives from last night (gosh their metabolism burned fast now!)- the pile of whitish rocks known as Emma was huddled in the back corner, softly crying. Ben let himself inside. “Hey.”

She didn’t respond. He was okay with that.

Ben sat down next to her. “So… Rough night, huh?”

He took her jagged sob as a ‘yes.’

“Yeah. Me too.” He paused. “You know what the worst thing is?” he asked, not expecting her to answer. “Before I turned into this giant rock thing, I used’ta be a good lookin’ guy.” He smiled crookedly down at her, expecting her not to look up. And she didn’t. “Been _ages_ since I had a date with someone who wasn’t a confused geologist.”

To his surprise, he thought he heard a gravelly chuckle. That, or another sob. It was hard to tell. He went on, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the geologists were nice, but that’s not the kind of examination I was hoping for, y’know? –Not that I don’t enjoy the attention of beautiful women. And hey, they did teach me a coupla’ cool things about rocks. So there’s that.”

Emma sniffled and lifted her head incrementally, tilted towards him a bit.

“Yeah,” Ben continued, “Learned all about igneous and sedimentary rocks, agates, crystals, all kindsa stuff. Never found the Grand Canyon so interesting.”

She was looking at him now. And wow, her eyes were diamonds too. Huh.

“Never learned about anything like us, though.”

She looked away.

“Wonder why the cosmic storm decided to turn us both all rocky, huh? Don’t even know what yer powers were before. I’m guessing something along the lines of ‘powerful’, since that’s all they seemed ta have on me. I was the big, muscular guy, so I got the rock powers.”

She didn’t seem to find this funny.

He wasn’t sure he did either. “It’s got its upsides, though.” He let silence settle between them; he felt her question. “Like,” he elaborated, “we’re pretty much invulnerable. Bullets don’t hurt. Knives, bombs, arrows. Impenetrable skin has its upsides. And we’re pretty tough, huh?” He knocked her casually on the shoulder with his fist.

She swayed a bit, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Yeah,” he agreed with himself, “We’re pretty tough.”

He sat with her until he felt the mood lift a little bit. At the very least, she wasn’t as devastated as she’d been when he’d first come in.

He stood. “Well. Breakfast calls. You want me ta get you somethin’?” he offered over his shoulder. She didn’t say anything.

“I’ll grab you a sandwich,” he promised.

She seemed to like this idea.

Once he was in the hallway, he paused. Gambit wasn’t alone in his cell.

He was asleep, from the looks of it, but Johnny was sitting nearby holding what looked like a container of ice cream.

A smile tugged at his mouth. The kid could be sweet when he wanted to.

* * *

Gambit woke with a start. His eyes were wide, his breathing fast.

“Ice cream?” Johnny offered, holding out the container. He was sitting nonchalantly in the middle of Gambit’s cell, cross-legged, a smile tugging at his lips.

Gambit blinked, disoriented. “Wha’ flavor is it?”

“Midnight Snack.” Johnny handed Gambit the container. “My favorite. Well, _one_ of them anyway.”

Gambit took a bite. He was pulled taut all over, like a bomb of potential energy just waiting to go off. “This has potato chips!” he remarked with surprise.

“Yeah!” Johnny grinned. “Potato chips, chocolate, caramel. Pretty awesome, right?”

“It’s good!” Gambit took another bite.

“I know right!” Johnny pulled the container towards him and dug a scoop out with his own spoon.

Gambit grew increasingly tense as they shared the container. “…Are ya sure you should be in here?”

“What, keepin’ you company? Sure! Why not?” Johnny took another spoonful.

The ice cream was starting to melt around the edges.

“Ah don’ wanna hurt you…”

“Well, I’ve got some good news for you, then.” Johnny smiled, eyes warm. “You can’t. I catch fire too, see?” He let go of the ice cream container and demonstrated, conjuring a flame in the middle of his palm.

The ice cream was melting faster now. Johnny extinguished his flame, grabbed the container, and tried to subtly re-freeze it.

Gambit frowned.

“C’mon, help me finish this! I don’t want Susan to notice I stole it.”

Gambit perked up, intrigued. “Ya stole the ice cream?”

“From the freezer!” Johnny said defensively. “And it was probably mine anyway.”

Gambit chuckled. “Far be it from _me_ tu lecture someone on stealin’.” He ate one last melty scoop of ice cream before surrendering the rest of the container to Johnny.

Johnny shoveled the rest of the ice cream in without taking a breath in between bites. He moaned. “ _Damn_ this stuff is delicious! –So what now! You still hungry? I can get some more ice cream for you. I dunno about you, but as soon as _I_ started catching fire all the time, I was _crazy-_ hungry, like, _all_ the time.”

“Ah’m all righ’..” Gambit scratched the back of his neck, gaze askance.

“Are you _suuuuure?”_ Johnny urged, leaning closer.

Gambit’s mouth curled up on one side. “Ah’m sure.” He felt himself growing warmer.

“Brought you a deck of cards,” Johnny offered.

Gambit hesitated. “Ah’ll jus’ incinerate dem, homme.”

“Eh. Maybe. But you might be able to play with ‘em first,” he offered hopefully.

Gambit could feel the heat building. He closed his eyes and frowned. He was developing a splitting headache. He wished he had more ice cream.

“Knew the ice cream wouldn’t last long,” Johnny muttered. “Damn.”

“Wha’ was that?” Gambit cracked open his eyes.

“Uh! Nothing,” Johnny lied. “So that’s a ‘no’ on the cards, then?”

“Ah’m sorry, mon ami…”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Johnny put the cards in his pocket. “Kinda figured you’d say that anyway. But I figured it was worth a shot, right?”

Gambit smiled grimly.

“Hey.” Johnny laid a hand on his arm. “None of that now.”

Where Johnny’s hand clasped his arm, Gambit could feel Johnny drawing out the heat. Their eyes met. For the first time, he noticed that behind the casual façade, Johnny was intensely concentrating on him. Johnny’s mouth turned up on one side. Eyes shuttered, he said, “See? You’re doing fine.”

“Because of _you,_ ” Gambit argued softly.

Johnny’s expression flickered. The warmth in the room spiked for an instant before Johnny got it under control again. “Y-you can learn to do this too, ya know.” Johnny recovered himself quickly.

“Teach me?” Gambit shifted closer.

The heat spiked again. “Yeah, see, all you gotta do is focus on, uh. On like, containing the heat. Instead of pushing outwards, you gotta push _in._ ”

“How do I do tha’?”

“Uh.” The temperature was gradually increasing. Johnny’s gaze darted between Remy’s red-and-black eyes. “Well, uh.” He swallowed. “Y-you gotta just.” His gaze flickered to Remy’s mouth. “Uh.” The temperature was climbing sharply.

“Ah gotta what?” Gambit pleaded. There was heat building both internally and externally. He didn’t know what to do.

“Um.” Johnny licked his lips. “I’m gonna get more ice cream.”

“Wait!!” Gambit grabbed Johnny’s biceps in a crushing grip. “Please, don’ go! Wha’ do Ah gotta do?!”

“I told you already, you gotta-!” Johnny’s eyes darted all over. The temperature was still climbing. His face glowed brighter. “-I gotta go!” He broke away and dashed out of the cell, Gambit desperately calling his name after him, but the door slammed in his face, the automatic lock hissing behind Johnny as he bolted down the hallway, upper body aglow with barely repressed flame. 

* * *

Susan had been unable to sleep as well. She had quietly padded to Kurt’s cell and let herself in once she saw he was awake. The two of them were sitting cross-legged, conversing, when a blur of light illuminated the back of Kurt’s cell.

Susan stood, frowning. “Kurt? How are you feeling right now?”

“I am feeling pretty well, fraulein. Better than I have felt since we went into space. Vhy?” He frowned up at her.

“Because I just saw Johnny run past.” She approached the door of the cell and peered both ways down the hallway. Her mouth thinned into a grim line. “I should check on the others.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kurt.”

“Ja, fraulein,” Kurt said gently. “I understand.”

She could tell from the tone of his voice that she was already forgiven. “I’ll try to let them know you’re okay.” She let herself out.

Gambit was standing near the front of his cell, fists clenched, engulfed in purple flame. He took one look at her, pounded his fists against the glass, and screamed. The flames instantly grew larger and brighter.

Down the hallway, a dull thunk alerted her to Wolverine trying to escape his cage, as well. The glass at the front of his cage was hashed and scratched, and he was chipping away at it over and over with frenzied thrusts of his elastic arms. Susan twisted a dial on her wrist. “Jean,” she said, running down the hallway towards the elevator, “They’re awake again. Gambit and Wolverine are trying to escape.”

“Not the other two?” Jean answered with surprise.

“I was just with Kurt. He seems okay. And Emma hasn’t moved. But Gambit is on fire and he’s only getting worse, and if Logan slashes at that door much more, I think he might break it.”

“I’ll give them more gas,” Jean said apologetically. There was a wistfulness to her voice which suggested she didn’t want to do it.

“I wish there was another way,” Susan voiced.

“So do I,” Jean agreed.

Safely on another floor, Susan sat heavily in an armchair and buried her face in her hands. This ordeal was wearing on her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” said Ben, sidling up to her and settling heavily in a nearby armchair with a large plate of food.

“They had to be sedated again,” Susan said without lifting her head.

Ben paused. “All of them?”

“Gambit and Wolverine. The others were fine.”

“Well, that’s a start.” Ben shoved some cookies into his mouth.

Susan sighed. “I guess.” She forced herself to sit up properly and tucked her hair back from where it had fallen in her face. “Has Emma spoken yet?”

Ben’s mouth twisted in a way which clearly said ‘no.’ “Nah, not with words.” He shoved more food in his mouth.

“So she’s spoken with you? Non-verbally?” Susan perked up a little, intrigued.

“Yeah. You could say that.”

Susan side-eyed the food on Ben’s platter. Ben noticed and held the platter out to her. Susan nabbed a few crackers. She nibbled one thoughtfully. “Kurt’s been talking to me, too.”

“Yeah,” Ben said around his mouthful of food, “Saw you in there.”

Susan nodded. “He said he doesn’t mind the collars.”

“Collars?” Ben feigned cluelessness, not meeting her eyes.

Susan sighed again. “Professor X has some collars that can neutralize mutant powers. Reed is hoping to modify them so they cancel out cosmic radiation-induced powers instead.”

“Huh,” Ben grunted. “Sign me up for one of those.”

Susan smiled grimly. “They’d only work on mutants.”

“Oh.” Ben tried not to sound too disappointed. “Well. They need it more’n I do.”

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

“Nah. It’s okay,” he lied, scooping in another mouthful.

Susan nibbled on her crackers and stared into the distance, deep in thought. She was about halfway done when Ben stood, his platter empty except for one lone sandwich. “You’re not gonna eat that?” she wondered aloud.

Ben glanced at her. “I’m savin’ it for later.” He slid the sandwich into his pocket and walked away.

* * *

“You okay?”

Johnny startled. “Yeah! Fine!” he said way too quickly, voice pitched too high.

The girl in the bright pink t-shirt and yellow trench coat which reminded him of Gambit raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure? You look kind of… tense.”

“Nope, I’m fine!” Johnny insisted, pasting a bright smile over his face. He practically oozed anxiety.

“If you say so…” She popped her gum. “You’re Johnny Storm, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Jubilation Lee. Friends call me Jubilee.” She stuck out her hand.

Her partially gloved fingers reminded him of Gambit, too. He shook her hand.

She retracted her hand and popped her gum. “You’re the guy that saved Gambit, right?”

Johnny’s eyes lit up, but he quickly tamped down whatever-that-was. “Uh, yeah. You know him?”

“We’re friends.” Her tone suggested there was more of a history between them than that, but also that she wasn’t about to share.

“Oh.” Johnny stared blankly ahead, lost in thought. “Yeah… Yeah, us too.”

Jubilee scrutinized him.

Johnny squirmed under the metaphorical magnifying glass. “…You got any video games around here?”

Jubilee grinned. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Five hours later, they were playing yet another intense round of Mario Kart, Bobby and Kitty were rooting for them from behind the couch, Rogue was quietly sipping a soda in the background, and Johnny was _just_ about to get first place in the third lap of the final round when Susan burst in, calling Johnny’s name in a serious pay-attention-to-me- _right-now_ voice. Jubilee swooped in front of him and took first place. Johnny slammed down his controller and groaned.

“Johnny!” Susan repeated sharply.

“What!”

“We need you downstairs. The collars are ready.”

Johnny frowned. “Why do they need _me_ for that?”

Susan gave him a meaningful glare. “Because you’re the only one who can get close to Gambit.”

“Can’t you do it when they’re unconscious?” Johnny asked, staring at the paused screen.

“There’s no time,” Susan warned. “They’re going to be awake any moment now, and we don’t want to have to sedate them again if we don’t have to.”

“Why not?” Johnny complained petulantly.

“Johnathan Lowell Spencer Storm, get on your feet _right now_.”

Johnny sighed deeply. “Fine.” He ignored the way three people were now watching him curiously.

“I could try getting close to someone,” Rogue offered quietly, looking down.

Susan glanced at her, grim. “That’s very sweet of you, Rogue, but Professor X explicitly said you should not do that. He’s not sure what affect their combined powers would have on you. He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

Rogue bit her lip. “I could handle it.”

“She could get close to Logan,” Kitty suggested. She gave Rogue a tiny smile. “We heard Logan wasn’t cooperating. He listens to her.”

“Reed can do it,” Susan said uncertainly.

“Let her try,” Bobby urged.

Susan glanced between the three teenagers. She sighed. “All right, come with us. We’ll let the Professor decide. Come on!”

She led Johnny and Rogue to the lower levels. Johnny eyed Rogue curiously in the elevator. “You’re the one that steals everybody’s powers, right?”

Rogue nodded silently, side-eyeing him.

“Wonder if that would work on me…” he mused aloud.

“Now is not the time to find out!” Susan warned. They arrived at their floor. Remy was already starting to glow. Johnny started towards his cell, but Susan halted him. She tugged him towards Reed and Professor X, who were waiting in the hallway with four collars.

“Welcome,” he greeted. “We’ve tested the electromagnetic impulses on sample cells. These collars should cancel out both their mutant and cosmic radiation- induced powers. We simply need to put a collar on each of them, and press the ‘on’ button.” He indicated a small red button, which turned green when he pressed it. “The only way to turn them off is with these four keys, which I will carry with me at all times.” Again, he demonstrated, turning the collar back off. He pocketed the keys. “In case anything should happen to me, Jean has been entrusted with the copies. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Susan confirmed, drawing herself up.

Rogue stood just behind her, wide-eyed. “Are those going to hurt me if I touch them?”

Professor X frowned. “Rogue! What are you doing here?”

“I—I came to help Logan.”

“We don’t need her,” Reed insisted. “I can handle him.”

The Professor considered her seriously.

“Please,” Rogue pleaded. “He—he listens to me.” She twisted her hands nervously, looking down.

“You could just let ‘er talk to him while Reed does the hard stuff,” Ben suggested.

Reed and Professor X exchanged a communicative glance. Professor X nodded. “You have my permission to speak with him, Rogue, but nothing more.”

She followed Reed to Logan’s cell. Reed cautioned her outside the door that she was not allowed to enter. She twisted her hands nervously as he showed her how to work the communication system.

“You know what to do!” Reed barked to the room at large.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The collars have appeared in multiple X-Men storylines; they were not my invention. I've seen them in Wolverine and the X-Men and X-Men: The Animated Series. Wouldn't be surprised if they appeared in the comics as well. However, modifying them to cancel out cosmic powers was my idea, as far as I know.
> 
> Also, Johnny's red suit is possibly the most dorky costume he's ever worn. It's so garish and obnoxious. It's so him. https://berkeleyplacecomics.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/img_0413.jpg (pic)
> 
> Johnny catching Remy bridal-style is a thing that actually happened. I may have flailed and squealed really loud and then posted it on tumblr. http://youknow-i-loveit.tumblr.com/post/121772654783/he-is-carrying-gambit-bridal-style


	3. Chapter 3

Johnny stood in front of Gambit’s cell. For a terrified moment, he couldn’t remember the combination. He frowned deeply, fingers twitching. Purple light emanated from the cell. Johnny cursed internally. Gambit would burn the collar before he could even get it on at this rate. He set the collar down and wracked his brain. The numbers on the keypad blurred nonsensically in front of him.

Susan stood outside of Kurt’s cage, shoulders squared, a collar in her hand. She pressed the comm button. “Kurt,” she announced, “I’m coming in.” She punched in the combination and entered, all poise and cool confidence and determination.

Ben carefully punched in the combination with his pinkie, mentally cursing every tiny button on the planet. After his eventual success, he grumpily ambled into Emma’s cell. “Hey,” he greeted. She didn’t say anything; she remained crouched in her corner, arms folded protectively over her head. ‘Least, he was pretty sure those were her arms.

As soon as Reed entered Logan’s cell, Rogue darted in behind him. “Rogue!” Reed shouted as the door sealed shut behind him. Wolverine yowled. “Logan!” Rogue pleaded, fists clenched.

Finally, Johnny remembered the five-digit combination. The numbers came into sharp focus. He punched it in with shaking fingers and let himself inside empty-handed.

Kurt flickered and teleported across the cell, hands on his head. He was once more encased in a force field bubble. Susan reached out towards him. “Kurt,” she said with gentle, yet firm authority. Kurt stared at her blindly as though staring straight through her, panicked.

Ben came to a stop near the distraught rock pile. “I’m gonna need to find your neck,” Ben explained awkwardly. “Okay?” Emma did not respond.

Logan whipped around to face Rogue. She stared into his wild eyes. “Logan,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. Her voice gave a slight shake. “I know you’re in there.” Logan approached her slowly, stretched out into weird shapes, like his body was made out of restless bubblegum. “I know about the nightmares,” Rogue started. Logan loomed closer. “The ones where you’re taken apart, over and over again,” she continued, voice still trembling, her stance steady. “The ones where you can’t control your body. I know you didn’t want me to know about them,” she apologized, “But your memories are my memories. Because I touched you.” Logan snarled.

Kurt’s bubble remained constant, the strongest one he could conjure. He flickered inside of it, becoming visible-then-invisible-then-visible-then-invisible faster than the eye could blink. “Kurt, it’s me. It’s Susan,” she said in the most soothing, authoritative voice she could muster. “I’ve come here to help you.” Kurt flinched and curled further into himself. The bubble thickened.

Gambit hovered in the corner, fists clenched, face upturned, his mouth open in a constant scream. “Gambit!” Johnny shouted. Gambit didn’t give any sign that he knew Johnny was there. Johnny held out his hands in front of him and slowly approached the ever-hotter Gambit. “I’m gonna touch you! Okay?!” Johnny shouted over Gambit’s screaming. He took Gambit’s complete lack of a response as a go-ahead.

Ben felt Emma thinking. He waited patiently.

Rogue cautiously reached out one hand towards Reed, eyes fixed on Logan, who was only a foot away from her. “Give me the collar,” she ordered, face white.

“Kurt!” Susan stood closer. “I need you to focus on me. Just like we talked about, remember? That’s it… Just focus on me.”

The walls near Gambit were starting to warp. “C’mon, man! Supernova! Bad!” Johnny reached out and grabbed Gambit’s tense shoulders. He screwed up his face in concentration. Johnny felt a tight ball of heat and energy building inside him as the room slowly started to cool.

Emma shifted. Ben lifted his brow ridge. “You ready?” Slowly, the whitish rock pile stood. She was… really pretty. Wow. “All right,” Ben said quietly, “I just need ta put this around your neck, okay? It’s gonna make you look normal again. And hopefully block out the pain.” Emma bowed her head and waited.

Logan loomed closer. “Now!” Rogue pleaded, trembling from head to toe, eyes locked with Logan’s. Reed handed her the collar at the last second, Rogue snapped the collar around Logan’s neck and pressed the on button, and Logan stopped mid-snarl, snapping back to his regular shape. He swayed on his feet for a second, glaring, eyes still locked with Rogue’s.

Kurt’s form solidified. He stared into Susan’s eyes, his expression screaming with pain, hands clamped onto the sides of his head, ears partially uncovered. “I need to put this collar on you,” Susan explained in that same strong, calm voice. “You need to take down your force field.” Kurt stared at her a moment. The force field wavered, then disappeared. Susan placed the collar around his neck and pressed the on button.

Gambit slumped against him with relief. “It’s all right,” Johnny said in as reassuring a voice as he could muster with what felt like a neutron star inside of him, “I’ve got you.” Gambit leaned into him further, until his nose rested against Johnny’s shoulder. His hair brushed against Johnny’s cheek, baby-soft and smelling of raspberries. The star in Johnny’s gut fluttered. He tamped down the rising heat with all the energy he could muster.

Ben slipped the collar around Emma’s neck and pressed the on button. The whitish rocky woman before him transformed into an even more beautiful human woman with silvery eyes and long pale blond hair. “Oh.” Ben took her in. “Wow.” Emma’s mouth turned up on one side.

“Well,” Logan grunted, “ _That_ was unpleasant.” He fainted against Rogue, who caught him and stumbled backwards into the wall as he sagged against her. She met Reed’s eyes over Logan’s shoulder. Her expression silently proclaimed, ‘I told you I could do it.’ Reed silently allowed that yes, she could.

Kurt’s expression eased. He stared at his now perpetually-visible hands. “You did it!” he exclaimed with relief.

Once Gambit felt more-or-less a normal temperature, Johnny released his grip and darted out of the cell to grab the collar. “Johnny?” Remy called after him, voice hoarse. Johnny re-entered the cell, collar in-hand. “I’ve gotta put this on you,” Johnny hurriedly explained. The repressed energy was trying to burn its way out of him. He ignored the tight knot of white heat in his stomach and closed the gap between them. “This is gonna stop you from… Being all flamey and in pain. Okay?”

Gambit fidgeted, eyeing the collar with distrust. His uncertain eyes met Johnny’s. He must have found something in them that tipped the scale; his shoulders set back in resolve and he stood still, facing him head-on. Johnny slipped the collar around Gambit’s neck and pressed the ‘on’ button. A tiny green light glowed. Reluctantly, Johnny backed away.

“Stay,” Gambit pleaded, catching Johnny’s arm.

“I…” Johnny stared at the hand on his arm. The star inside of him flared, burning brighter and brighter. “I can’t!” Johnny yanked his arm away, slammed the door behind him, and ran blindly towards the elevator, with no idea what button to push. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, the star inside him pulsing and ready to explode.

_B eight_ , Jean Grey’s voice said in his head.

Johnny didn’t have time to question it. He pushed the button. The elevator went up a few floors. Jean’s voice guided him to a large door on the right. Johnny just barely made it inside before he erupted in a giant fireball. The sensation was somewhere between explosive diarrhea and the best orgasm _ever_.

Once it was over, he sank to his knees, panting. The floor was scorched and partially melted. He noticed absently that he was naked. Several important-looking metal things were dripping onto the floor, half-destroyed. There were scorch marks all over the walls. It looked like a bomb had gone off in here.

 “Whoa.” Jubilee stared wide-eyed at what was left of the Danger Room. “Johnny! Are you okay?” 

“Jeezus!” He scrambled to cover himself. “What are you doing here?!”

Jubilee whistled, staring at the melted machinery. “Does this happen _every_ time you use your powers?”

“Not when I’m wearing something flame-proof,” Johnny retorted. He hated being naked when it wasn’t on purpose.

“Daaaaang. No _wonder_ Gambit was so crabby!”

Johnny perked up.

Jubilee was very amused. She took off her trench coat. “Here ya go, Mister Naked. I won’t look.” She held it out at arm’s length, averting her eyes.

Johnny nabbed the trench coat. “Thanks,” he said once he was covered.

Jubilee chanced a glance. He’d tied the coat around his waist like a skirt. She was _definitely_ washing that before she wore it again.

“It wouldn’t fit my arms!” he whined, cheeks pink, folding his arms over his noticeably muscular chest.

Huh. _Nice._ “So Gambit’s all de-powered now?” Jubilee guessed.

Johnny seemed to deflate. “Yeah.”

“Did it go well?” she asked cautiously.

“Uh… Not exactly.”

She frowned. “Is he okay?”

Johnny’s cheeks turned pink again. “Yeah. I mean. He’s not in pain anymore. The collar thing is working.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

She squinted. “Is there somethin’ goin’ on between you two?”

Johnny’s eyes widened and he flailed, stepping back and wheeling his arms like he was about to fall over. “WHAT! No! Of course not! That’s ridiculous!”

“Okay,” she said skeptically, “Just asking.” Jubilee popped her gum.

“We just have the same powers, okay! It doesn’t mean anything!”

Jubilee chewed her gum slowly. “Uh huh.”

Johnny’s face reddened. “They only wanted me to go in there because flamey stuff doesn’t hurt me, okay! That’s all this was!”

Jubilee popped her gum. “Uh huh.”

“Would you--! Stop staring at me like that!!”

Jubilee raised her eyebrows. “Like what?”

“Like that!!” Johnny gestured emphatically, his meaning unclear. “Would you just-! Argh! Forget it!” He stomped out of the room, barefoot, clad only in the coat tied around his waist.

“You know I want that back, right?” she called after him.

“Whatever!” Johnny held up both hands in a V shape over his head and stomped away without looking.

“Touchy.” Jubilee popped her gum again.

* * *

Of course. Of fucking course Johnny got lost on his way back to their room. It was really fun grinning at people and explaining away why he was naked except for a women’s coat tied around his waist. It was also really fun having to ask for directions three times.

When he finally found the right room, Susan was waiting for him inside, sitting tensely across from Reed. “Johnny!” She frowned. “You’ve got to stop running off on us like that! We had no idea where you were!”

“Oh, you know. Off naked somewhere. ‘Scuse me.” Johnny ducked into his bedroom and closed the door behind him, blocking out Susan’s deepened frown. He heard muffled conversation resume between her and Reed. He still didn’t understand why those two got married. Seemed all they ever did was fight. He untied the coat, dropped it on the floor, and put on some of his own clothes. He really needed to invest in a flame-retardant wardrobe.

Un-naked, Johnny strode with fake confidence into the living room and plopped down next to Ben in a recliner. “What’s up!” He grinned cheekily.

“Watchin’ the news.” Ben turned it up a few notches. The news announcer was saying something about a government satellite.

_“…government satellite has been brutally dismantled by former public protectors, the X-Men. The satellite, which was going to be revealed later this week, contained a surveillance system designed to monitor all superhero activity. This government satellite, designed for public safety, has been destroyed by the very people it was meant to monitor. I don’t know about you, Brad, but this reporter suspects the superheroes may have something they want to hide. Why else would they so viciously destroy public property?”_

_“I agree with you, Sharon. It certainly does seem fishy.”_

Ben huffed. “I’m tellin’ ya. We get no respect in this business. No respect at all.”

Susan and Reed were sitting across from each other in the kitchen, ignoring the television. “Be honest,” Susan warned. “How close are you to finding the cure?”

Reed’s mouth thinned into a grim line. “Barely started.”

Susan folded her arms and glared.

“Look, Sue, we had to dedicate all our energies to finding the fastest solution possible. That was those collars. Without them, these people would have had _no_ relief for days, maybe even _weeks!_ You saw what kind of pain they were in!”

“So you haven’t even started.”

“I said _barely._ Hank and I have isolated the new mutation, but we need time. It’s going to take a lot of testing before we find something that will work.”

“And in the meantime, what? We just _stay_ here and ignore all our other duties?”

_“You_ don’t have to, but _I_ do. Hank needs me on this project, Susan. I can’t just walk away.”

“No one is asking you to walk away!”

“You sure sound like you’re trying to.”

Ben and Johnny blocked them out. “So. You want to raid the kitchen?”

“Sounds great.” They stood up and left. As an afterthought, Johnny reached over and turned off the TV.

Susan rubbed her forehead. “I’m not. But what are the rest of us supposed to do while you search for a solution? Just hang around and be useless?”

“Susan, you’re not useless. They needed you to contain them with your force fields.”

“Which were _barely_ effective! And they don’t need me for that anymore.” She backed away from his outstretched hand, arms crossed. “And what about Johnny? And Ben? What are _they_ supposed to do while you work through this?”

Johnny and Ben were halfway to the main kitchen; Johnny was flustered and insisting that his nakedness and the presence of Jubilee’s jacket around his waist were not indications of what Ben seemed to insinuate. Ben remained unconvinced.

“It’s not up to me to decide what they should do,” Reed answered. “You’re all your own people.”

“Sometimes, Reed, I don’t think you care about this _team_ anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous, Susan! Of _course_ I care! You’re my family.” He reached out for her again.

She blocked him with a force field. “It doesn’t feel like you do.”

“I do,” he said firmly.

“Then why are you working on solutions that could possibly neutralize _our_ powers in the future?! Why won’t you agree to destroy those collars once you find a cure! Why aren’t you agreeing that whatever you use to neutralize _their_ cosmic radiation- induced powers won’t be used in the future to destroy _our_ powers! Why aren’t you concerned for the future of your team?!”

“I’m helping out our allies, Sue. What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say that you’ll destroy the collars! I want you to say you’ll destroy the formula! I want you to promise me there is no way cosmic power- neutralizing technology will find its way into the wrong hands and knock us out for good!”

Reed sighed. “I can’t promise you that.”

Susan turned away coldly.

Reed placed a hand against the protective shield she’d raised to protect her back. “Professor X stores technology that could neutralize his X-Men. If you trust him with that, why won’t you trust me?”

“I _don’t_ trust him,” Susan said quietly. “That’s what you don’t understand. I don’t want _anyone_ to have this technology. I don’t care _how_ good they are.”

“Susan…”

Jubilee greeted Johnny and Ben, chocolate smeared on her chin. She offered them doughnuts. Ben kept raising his brow ridge at Johnny, who kept making abrupt cutting-off gestures; Jubilee was confused. She asked around a mouthful of chocolate-with-sprinkles doughnut if Johnny wanted a rematch at Mario Kart. Johnny answered enthusiastically around his own mouthful that hell yes, he would! Cinnamon and apple bits sprayed everywhere.

Ben decided to stay in the kitchen.

* * *

The Danger Room had been repaired with surprising speed. There were no traces that Johnny had destroyed it mere hours before- no scorch marks, nothing melted.

Jean sat in the control room. “What setting would you like it on?” she asked over the speaker.

Susan stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched. “How high does it go?”

“It’s based on a scale of one to ten, ten being the hardest.”

Susan surrounded herself with a shield. “Put it on ten.”

Jean cranked up the controls to their highest setting. She watched as the danger room transformed into a hologram only Susan could see. Susan ducked and dodged and flipped, kicking and punching imaginary foes. Her face was set in a ferocious snarl. Jean watched her closely to make sure the setting wasn’t too much for her. Susan seemed to be holding her own. Jean wondered what had filled Susan with such rage.

_Jean_ , Charles’s voice said in her head.

_Yes, Charles?_ she answered.

_I have received some troubling news._

Jean asked the silent question, prying him for more. Her concentration remained focused on Susan. Susan had begun using force fields as weapons.

_Magnus reached out to me this afternoon. He seems certain that ‘the world’s most powerful mutant’ is in danger._

_Isn’t that you?_

_I thought so, at first. But now I am not so sure._

Jean pondered this point. Magneto and the Professor were both equally powerful.

_That is the conclusion I came to, as well._

_Then who could it be?_ she wondered. Logan was virtually indestructible because of his instant healing factor and his adamantium bones. She and Scott had already been sought after by Mister Sinister, who claimed the two of them had particularly remarkable mutant genes, and that combined, they could create ‘the perfect mutant.’

_All of you are strong possibilities,_ the Professor said. _Until we know who the world’s most powerful mutant is, we must all stick together. Any one of us could be in danger._

Jean thought of all the children and young adults at Xavier Institute, all the innocent young faces, all that raw, unfocused talent.

_You remember how powerful_ you _were at their age,_ the Professor countered.

Jean remembered. It could be any of them. Still. If someone was after ‘the world’s most powerful mutant’, one would think they would be after someone who could do something truly destructive. Magneto was capable of crushing the Earth from its core, Professor X was capable of killing everyone on Earth instantly with a thought, and Jean was arguably capable of _both._ Wolverine could live through just about anything. Scott’s optic blasts were nothing to sneeze at.

_I’m putting extra security detail on the Institute until we learn more._

_That’s probably wise,_ Jean agreed. Susan’s rage-fueled rampage was winding to its end. Jean slowly cranked down the controls.

Susan kicked and punched and twisted, sweaty and panting, until the controls were back down to zero. Then she collapsed to her knees and cried.

Jean pretended not to notice. She gave Susan a moment to herself.

_Protect yourself, Charles._

_You know I will,_ came the answer, his wavelength fatherly and reassuring.

Once Susan had finished wiping her face, Jean’s voice came on over the speaker. “You did very well.”

Susan stood. “Thank you.” She squared her shoulders and exited the Danger Room, just as grim as she’d walked in.

Jean watched her exit with concern. It was unlike Susan to be so volatile. She longed to probe Susan’s thoughts in hopes of helping solve whatever was causing her such agony, but she sensed she would not be welcome.

Jean left to check on Logan.

* * *

Logan was sleeping near the back of his cell, curled up like a giant cat. There were three bleeding slits in the back of each hand. Dark stubble shaded his jaw. His ribcage rose and fell in time with his breaths. Even in sleep, his face was creased in a frown.

Kurt was asleep as well. He appeared more relaxed than Logan, his features relaxed, his hands pillowed under his cheek. His tail curled around his knees, pointing towards his stomach.

Emma perked up when she heard footsteps, but her expression became impassive when she saw Jean. “Are you going to let us out?” Emma asked.

“As soon as we can,” Jean promised. “We need to be sure you’re stable.”

Emma sighed. “Of course you do.”

“You understand.”

Emma resumed her position curled up with a book in her lap, her lips pursed in discontent.

Jean resumed walking.

Gambit was slumped over near the door. He, too, looked up hopefully when he heard footsteps. His face fell when he saw it was Jean, but he recovered himself quickly and pasted his usual smile on his lips. “Bonjour, cherie. Come to set me free?”

“Not until we’re sure it’s safe.”

“Of course,” he granted ruefully.

“If you’re lonely, we can send someone down to keep you company.”

Gambit’s mouth twisted wryly. “Don’ suppose Ah can make a reques’?”

“Of course you can.”

Gambit picked at his thumb, seeming to consider his words. “Can Ah see Johnny?”

“Storm?”

Uncertainty tinged with hope reflected in his expression. His sincerity was plain enough.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

_Johnny,_ Jean’s voice said in his head. He made up some lame excuse about being tired and left Ben and Jubilee to their table tennis match, which had grown rather heated. The ball thwacked loudly against the table and Jubilee let out a triumphant “HA!” as he left the room, unnoticed.

Johnny felt a tug pulling him in the general direction of the elevator. He followed Jean’s summons. He couldn’t quite hear her voice in his head, but he could feel her compelling his movements, like a gentle push on the swingset. His finger hovered over the button B12.

He pressed it.

Jean was nowhere to be found when he exited the elevator. He wondered for a second if he was on the wrong floor, but the tug kept pulling him. He followed it right to Gambit’s cell.

Gambit’s face lit up, but he quickly guarded his expression. “Ah didn’ think you’d come.”

“Yeah well. Jean told me to.” Johnny shuffled awkwardly.

“Ya ran away again,” Gambit said quietly, a trace of hurt in his voice.

“Well, _yeah,_ but I had to!”

“Why?”

“Because-!” Johnny cut himself off and huffed. “Look, I don’t want to explain it out here. Can I come in?”

Gambit pointed. “Door’s ovah there.”

Johnny let himself in. He fidgeted, not meeting Gambit’s eyes. He bit his lip. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. Look. When I absorb all the heat in the room, it’s still gotta _go_ somewhere. So when I absorbed all the heat in here, I had to let it out somewhere else, so it wouldn’t hurt you. Okay?”

Gambit considered this. “So… De whole time you were in here, ya were holdin’ onto somethin’ dat hurt you, an’ ya had to let it ou’ as soon as ya could?”

Johnny shifted, still avoiding his eyes. “Yes. But it didn’t hurt! Okay? It was more like.. trying to hold in an explosion.”

“De good kind or de bad kind?”

Johnny waved a hand. “Little bit of both.”

This seemed to soothe Gambit a little. “Ah’m sorry, mon ami. Ah couldn’ control it.”

“Hey, neither could I, the first time I caught on fire. It’s a lot of energy all at once, y’know?”

“Ah know,” Gambit said quietly.

Johnny cleared his throat. It was awkwardly quiet now. “Uh… So yeah. But you’ve got your collar on, so it’s all good now. I mean. You’re not hurting anymore, and you’re not gonna like, try to burn a hole through the wall or crank up more heat than the surface of the sun, so. You’re good, right?”

“Did Ah do somethin’ to ya, Johnny?”

Johnny backed up a step. “What? Why?”

“You’re actin’ jumpy. An’ de las’ two times you was in here, ya ran away as fast as ya could.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “If Ah didn’ know any bettah, Ah’d say ya wanted tu be away from me as soon as possible.”

“What! No! That is totally not the case!” Johnny backed away another step.

“An’ yet ya are avoidin’ me again. Even though Ah can’t hurt you.” Gambit reached out.

“I’m not—” Johnny held up his hands defensively. “Look, I’m not avoiding you, okay!”

“Den what’s goin’ on! Why are ya actin’ like ya don’ wan’ tu be around me? Do Ah _scare_ you?” he asked bitterly.

“What! No!”

Gambit loomed closer, reaching out towards Johnny. He ended up backing Johnny into a corner. “See, ya say tha’, but den ya back as far away from me as you can go.”

“I—Look, it’s nothing personal, I just--!” His face was turning red. The heat in the room began to rise.

“Ya just what? Ya thought mah eyes were charming at firs’, but den dey gave you nightmares? You think Ah’m some kinda demon? Is tha’ why ya won’ look me in de eye?”

“No!!” Johnny forced himself to meet Remy’s eyes, hands clutching uselessly at the smooth wall of the cell. Remy had the coolest eyes in the universe, thankyouverymuch. What he was _really_ afraid of was—

“Well what is it, den?” he asked, voice low, leaning closer.

Remy’s mouth was _way_ too close, and that low, dangerous voice was doing things to Johnny that he didn’t want to admit.  Remy kept leaning closer. His eyes were blazing like twin red stars, pulling Johnny in with their gravity. Something in Johnny’s brain sizzled.

“Why are you afraid a’ me, cher?”

And there was _hurt_ in those gorgeous, one-of-a-kind eyes. That hurt reached right out and dug itself into Johnny’s chest.

“I can’t get close to people!” Johnny blurted out.

Remy blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. He backed away an inch, frowning. “Wha’?”

Johnny took a deep breath, willing his face to cool down. It wasn’t very effective. “I have nightmares, okay? When I get—I can’t control it. The heat. It just—it’s always there, just below my skin, and whenever I get flustered, or excited, or whatever, I can’t hold it back anymore. And I just—I can’t unleash that on somebody. I’d—” He turned away, the words catching in his throat.

Remy’s voice was unexpectedly compassionate. “All dat energy, simmering jus’ below de surface.”

Johnny glanced up sharply.

“An’ if ya touch somethin’…” Remy made a ‘boom’ gesture with one hand.

Something swirled in Johnny’s gut. “Exactly.” He understood. Holy shit, he _understood!_

“So den… ya are afraid of gettin’ close to me?” Remy examined those scared blue eyes.

“Afraid of getting close to _anyone,_ ” Johnny corrected, nerves drawn tight. “That’s why I—I can’t. More than one-night stands, I just—I just _can’t._ N-not that I was ever considering—! I mean, not that I’d be _opposed_ to—I just…!” His face glowed red.

“Ah know what tha’s like,” Remy said softly. He gave Johnny’s face a long, lingering onceover before pushing away from the wall and giving him blessed space.

Johnny watched Gambit retreat, feeling an odd sense of loss. “…That doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ to get close to anyone.”

Gambit smiled enigmatically. “When Ah get mah powers back, Ah wanna show ya somethin’.”

Johnny scanned his face. “Is it another card trick?” he joked with a quick smile that disappeared as suddenly as it appeared.

“Hmmm,” Gambit hummed, eyes warm. “If ya brough’ me a deck a’ cards, Ah could show ya one right _now_.”

Johnny smiled lightning-fast again. “Be right back.”

* * *

Johnny ransacked his drawers until he found what he was looking for: a deck of Spongebob Squarepants cards, collectors’ edition. He pocketed the cards and strolled back down the hallway. He rounded a corner and almost ran smack into Jubilee.

She was standing there with her arms folded. “Okay, seriously? I _know_ you just went down to Gambit’s cell. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Leave me alone!” Johnny side-stepped her but she blocked him. They did that awkward hallway dance. Johnny huffed in annoyance.

“Tell me! Come on, we’re friends!”

“You saw me naked. That doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“But I lent you my jacket!” Jubilee pouted.

“Yeah, and?”

Jubilee pouted. “I _could_ have just let you wander back to your room, _naked._ I didn’t _have_ to help you, y’know.”

Johnny groaned. “Fine.” He just _really_ wanted this conversation to be over. “I’m bringing him a deck of cards, okay?”

“But what were you doing _before?”_ Jubilee pressed.

“Just talking! Okay? Leave me alone!” He tried to get past her again.

She blocked him. “Talking about _what?”_

This time he squeezed past her. He had to elbow her in the ribs to do it, which he felt slightly bad about, but he _really_ needed to not talk about this right now.

“Ow! Hey!” she called after him, rubbing her side. “Grump,” he heard her mutter as he pressed the button for the elevator.

Jubilee had half a mind to follow him, just to see what Mister Tall Awkward and Secretive was up to, but she had something better than that: she could hack into the security cameras.

“Hey Jean,” she greeted brightly as she skipped past her down the hallway. Jean hardly paid her any mind. She seemed preoccupied by something. Whatever.

She made it to the control room and brought up the security feed for the lower containment level. Wolvie was still asleep- yawn- except someone had propped his head up on a pillow, which was actually kind of cute. Emma was reclined on a throne made of pillows and reading what looked like a bad romance novel. (Jubilee snorted. Figures.) Kurt was asleep too. And ha! There was Johnny.

He let himself into Gambit’s cell. Gambit seemed happy to see him. Johnny seemed a little bashful. What was it with him anyway? He handed Gambit a deck of cards. Gambit took one look at them, threw his head back, and laughed. Johnny seemed to be saying something defensive. Jubilee screwed around with the controls to see if she could pick up some audio.

They sat down in the middle of Gambit’s cell and Gambit shuffled the cards.

Ha _ha!_ Jubilee connected two wires. The sound crackled on. Gambit was murmuring something. She cranked up the volume.

“-mon ami,” Gambit finished warmly. He showed Johnny a card trick she’d seen a couple dozen times. She found Johnny’s starstruck look infinitely amusing. She snickered, covering her mouth to muffle the sound.

“Is somebody in there?” asked Scott’s voice behind the door.

Jubilee panicked and ducked under the counter, hoping he wouldn’t see her.

The door slid open. “Jean?” He looked down. And frowned. “Jubilee? What are you doing in here? You don’t have security clearance to—What was that?!”

Jubilee was infinitely grateful for whatever distraction had just happened. Scott was staring at the screen, frowning.

“What was what?” Jubilee hazarded, standing up and brushing herself off. She craned her neck to look at the screen.

The cameras on the lower level flickered again.

Scott held two fingers up to his temple. “Jean? Come to the security room. There’s something wrong with the cameras on the lower levels.”

The cameras flickered and fuzzed out.

Scott turned. “Now _you,_ young lady… What are you doing in here? Did you tamper with the security equipment?”

Jubilee held up her hands. “Whoa there, Cyke! It wasn’t _me!_ I’m just as baffled as _you_ are!”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Do you _really_ think I’d mess something up like that? Gambit and I are friends! I just wanted to see what he was up to!”

“Then why didn’t you just go downstairs?”

“Because you _yelled_ at me last time I _did!_ Remember?” She stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her arms.

His frown deepened. “Gambit was volatile! We couldn’t risk your safety—!” Scott cut himself off and turned back to the video screens. The feed for the lower level was back. Except… “No.” Scott paled. “That _can’t_ be right.”

“What?” Jubilee turned to look at the screen again.

Scott held two fingers to his temple. “Gambit’s cell is empty!”

* * *

Jean, Scott, and Professor X crowded around the monitors in the security room.

“Are you _sure_ that’s what you saw?” Professor X was asking.

“Yes, I’m positive. The screens flickered, then went offline for about thirty seconds, and when the feed came back, Gambit’s cage was empty.”

“Search the Institute,” he instructed. “They can’t have gone far. Jean, see if you can reach out to them. I’m going to try as well.” They both placed their fingers to their temples, closed their eyes, and concentrated.

“I can’t reach them,” Jean said after a moment.

“Neither can I. It’s possible that they’re shielded, somehow. Jean. Take me to Cerebro.”

Jean grabbed the handles to Charles’s wheelchair.

“Scott, see what you can find on the security feeds. Perhaps you’ll find a clue.”

“I’ll do everything I can, sir.”

Jean wheeled the Professor to the room containing Cerebro. “Wait for me outside,” the Professor instructed. Jean nodded and released the handles. The Professor wheeled himself inside and strapped on the helmet. The automatic doors closed behind him.

Even with Cerebro, it was hard to pinpoint certain mutants. Thousands of figures lit up, all around the world. He sought out Gambit, but no matter how hard he searched, he could find no trace of him. This was deeply troubling.

A horrible thought struck him. He had stripped Gambit of his powers. Gambit’s signature had changed. He was no longer considered a mutant, until his collar was removed.

The Professor switched his view to normal humans and searched for both Gambit and Johnny. It took a lot of time, and a lot of concentration. But he was determined. This was partially his fault. Had he not stripped Gambit of his powers, perhaps Gambit would not be wherever-it-is-he-was.

He had no choice but to conclude that Gambit had been taken forcibly.

The room had shown no signs of damage, but Kurt had been locked into the only cell which was armed against teleportation. If another mutant had teleported them out…

“Professor!” he heard Jean’s muffled voice outside. Her fists pounded on the door. “You’ve been in there too long! You have to stop!”

“Just… a few… more… minutes!” he ground out through gritted teeth. His head was pounding. He was glad for the wheelchair. This was quite the strain. He switched back to mutant view again. His vision started to blur.

“Professor, you have to let me in! It’s been _too long!”_

“I’m almost done!” he snapped. He couldn’t focus. He pushed himself. Maybe he could try…

Jean pressed the emergency release button on the doors and yanked the helmet off his head just before the Professor passed out.

Scott wasn’t having much more luck in the control room. She’d been in touch with him, too, and all he’d been able to find was Emma looking slightly alarmed the moment after Gambit and Johnny had disappeared.

Jean agreed with his assessment that they needed to confront Emma and learn if she’d seen anything. Jean let him know the professor had over-taxed himself in Cerebro and fainted.

Scott offered to meet her in front of Emma’s cell. Jean agreed.

She wheeled the professor to the hospital wing first, and let Hank know what happened.

“Oh, my word!”

She let him take care of the Professor. She had other places to be.

Scott was waiting for her in front of Emma’s cell. Emma was watching him with a frown, her book face-down in her lap.

“What did you see?” Scott asked without preamble.

“So something _has_ happened,” Emma mused.

“Gambit and Johnny are missing. Did you see what happened?”

Jean laid a hand on his arm. He needed to calm down.

Emma’s face was a cool mask of surprise. “Missing! Oh dear…” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve seen as much as you. The lights flickered off for a few seconds, I couldn’t see my book, and when the lights came back on, something felt _off…_ ”

“That’s it?” Scott asked through clenched teeth. “Something felt ‘off’?!”

Emma shrugged one elegant shoulder. “That’s all I know.” Despite her cool demeanor, she _was_ concerned. “Do you think they’re all right?”

“We don’t know,” Scott gritted. “They’ve disappeared. There’s no trace of them.”

“I didn’t think either of them had teleporting abilities,” she mused.

“They don’t.”

“…Then perhaps we should be searching for someone who _does._ ”

“What do you know that we don’t?” Scott leaned threateningly towards her cell.

She sent him a cool look, one narrow brow arched. “I know that we’re several yards underground, and unless there is a tunnel system that I am unaware of, teleportation seems the most likely route they took. Unless you can think of a better idea?”

Scott growled at her.

Jean held him back. “Scott, please!” she admonished. “Emma, are you _sure_ you didn’t see anything?”

“You know all I know.”

“All right,” said Scott, facing Jean instead of Emma, “So we’re looking for a mutant that can teleport. That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“Nightcrawler is here,” Emma interjected, “so that narrows it down a little.”

“He can’t even teleport right now! So no, not really!”

“Scott! – _Thank_ you, Emma.”

Emma tipped her head in acknowledgement and picked up her book.

Jean led Scott back upstairs. He was far from happy in the elevator. “How could we have missed that? Even if it _was_ a mutant that could teleport, we should have seen that on the feed! He must have had an accomplice, maybe someone on the inside. Who could have messed with the security feed like that? Unless there’s a mutation you know about that messes with electronic devices-“

Jean cut him off. “ _I_ can mess with electronic devices, and so can Gambit, by touching them. It’s not that uncommon.”

Scott huffed. “All right, fine. So we’re looking for potentially a mutant who can teleport _and_ has either electromechanical abilities, telekinetic abilities, the ability to manipulate energy, or something else that would allow him to mess with technology, _or_ we’re looking for _two_ mutants, one with each of those abilities, which are allied. That really narrows it down!”

“Well, we’re not going to find them by arguing in the elevator.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” he snapped.

“We use Cerebro.”

“No!” Scott objected. “It’s too hard on you!”

“It could be _hours_ before The Professor is able to operate Cerebro again, and the longer we wait, the farther away Gambit and Johnny are going to be! Please, let me do this! I can handle it!”

“I’m just as worried about them as you are, but you’re my wife! I can’t let you risk yourself like that!”

“Scott, I’ll be fine. I just need you there to anchor me.”

Scott was silent for a long, tense moment. “Fine. But I’m pulling you out the moment it gets too intense.”

“I’m counting on it.”

* * *

“Gone?!” Susan erupted. “What do you mean he’s _gone?”_

“The Professor is doing everything he can,” Reed assured her.

“But _we’re_ not doing everything _we_ can!”

“What’re we gonna do, Sue?” Ben questioned. “It’s not like we got a trackin’ device on ‘im.”

Susan whirled on him. “You’re siding with _him?!”_

Ben held up his hands. “I’m sidin’ with whoever is gonna help me find my best friend! The kid’s a pain in the ass but we love him, right?”

_“Yes,_ we love him! That’s why we need to do everything we can to find him!”

“And staying here is the best way to accomplish that,” Reed reiterated. “The Professor can connect telepathically with anyone on the planet. Under the right circumstances, so can Jean. It’s only a matter of time before they find them.”

“Well, that’s not enough for me.” Susan prowled towards the door.

“Where are you going, Sue?” Reed asked tiredly.

“I’m going to speak with someone who will listen.”

“We _are_ listenin’!” Ben called after her. “It’s _you_ that ain’t listenin’!”

Susan ignored the truth of his words and stalked off down the hallway.

She found herself in the medical wing. Hank was gently administering care to an unconscious Jean Grey, who was stretched out on a table. Cyclops sat next to her, holding her hand.

Susan’s anger faltered. “What happened?”

Cyclops looked up at her, expression mournful, apologetic, and determined all at once. His hands tightened around Jean’s. “Jean tried to find your brother using Cerebro. But it was too much for her. She fainted.”

“She’s the second patient who’s come to my wing with that exact same affliction today,” Hank supplied quietly.

Susan swayed. “You—you were trying to find my brother?”

“I’m sorry, Susan,” Cyclops apologized. There was a protective edge to his voice, no doubt directed to encompass his wife. “We’re doing everything we can.”

She glanced at the unconscious Jean, whose eyebrows were creased in a troubled expression. Professor X laid a few feet away from her, also unconscious, with the same expression frozen on his features.

She blinked away sudden tears. “I want my brother back.”

“And we want our friend back.” Hank laid a warm, furry hand on Susan’s shoulder. “Rest assured, we will find them. But it’s going to take some doing.”

Susan turned towards Hank and let her head fall against his chest. Her tears escaped.

Hank wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back reassuringly. He met Scott’s eyes above Susan’s head. Scott’s frown eased slightly. He looked down at his wife.

“It’s going to be all right,” Hank assured Susan gently as she cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story: Gambit was disowned as a baby because his birth parents took one look at his red-and-black eyes and panicked, assuming he was a demon. (Thus, his insecurity about his eyes.)
> 
> Also canon: Johnny's nightmares/ reasoning for serial dating and not settling down [ http://youknow-i-loveit.tumblr.com/post/112105607088/hopelessbutthead-johnnys-worst-nightmare-from ] (*gross sobbing*), and Johnny catching fire when he gets flustered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: some non-sexual non-con elements in this chapter

Johnny’s eyes creaked open. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing before he passed out. A distant part of his brain suggested he’d gotten drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten drunk. He blinked his bleary eyes and squinted at his surroundings.

The first weird thing he noticed was that he was upright.

The second weird thing he noticed was that he couldn’t move his arms.

His surroundings were completely unfamiliar. Judging by the metallic floors, the high ceiling, and the suspicious-looking machinery, he seemed to be in some sort of lab.

“Johnny?” croaked a familiar voice somewhere far away.

“Remy?” Johnny turned his head. Far to his left, chained to a weird-looking platform thing, was Remy. He was upright, too, but his restraints looked _way_ more heavy-duty than Johnny’s felt.

“Where ahre we?” Remy slurred, squinting around.

“That’s what I was wondering.” Johnny didn’t think this was Professor X’s lab. The whole place was too dark. And why on earth would the Professor have restrained his arms and legs? It didn’t make sense.

“Dere’s somethin’ familiar abou’ dis place,” Remy said in a low voice. “Ah can’t put mah fingah on it…”

Johnny shrugged as much as he could without moving his arms. “Ya got me. I’ve never seen this place before.”

“Me neither…”

“No idea then?”

“Ah have one idea,” Remy said grimly. “Ah’m jus’ hopin’ Ah’m wrong.”

“Care to share?”

“Don’ wanna jinx it.”

“Fair enough.” Johnny looked around. The optimistic version of this was he and Remy had gotten drunk last night and had been talked into something kinky by some attractive third person that neither one of them could remember. Johnny almost voiced this, but something about Remy’s mixture of wariness and defeat warned him not to. “..You okay?”

“As okay as Ah can be, give Ah’m powahless an’ strapped down in someone’s evil lair. You?” Something flickered across Remy’s face. “Did they hurt you?”

“Nah, I’m okay. Just confused. And kinda weirded out. I mean, I don’t remember how we got here. Do you?”

“All Ah remembah was showin’ you a card trick, an’ den de lights went out, an’ den we woke up here.”

“Oh. Yeah, they did didn’t they.” Johnny remembered the lights going out. He’d been about to ignite his hand to give them some light, but he didn’t remember what happened after that.

Remy tested his restraints to see if he could escape. He strained harder, with no discernible effect. He sagged, the fight seeming to have gone out of him.

“Wonder why they just chained us up and left..?” Johnny mused out loud. It was pretty weird.

“Don’ know.”

Johnny sighed. Then winced, because sighing really hurt in this position. His arms were outstretched, causing an unpleasant tug on his ribcage. “They coulda at _least_ given us a magazine or something.”

“An’ how would we read it?” Remy asked with a half-smirk.

Johnny glanced at the manacles strapping Remy’s hands to the wall. “Good point.” Silence settled around them again and Johnny inhaled to sigh again, but stopped at the stitch in his ribs and ended up coughing instead. “Well,” he blurted without much thought beforehand, “At least we’re here together.”

Something warm began to bloom across Remy’s features. Johnny’s heart stuttered when he realized what he’d just said. Mentally, he scrambled for some way to take it back. He felt his face heating.

“I hate to interrupt this no doubt _touching_ conversation,” interrupted a smooth, dark voice from somewhere off to Johnny’s right- Johnny whipped his head around to take in the guy standing there as he finished his sentence, “but we have some business to attend to.”

The guy standing in the doorway had to be at least seven feet tall. He was dressed all in black, his eyes glowed red, and his cape was weird and strappy and kinda reminded Johnny of a spider with too many legs. Johnny shuddered. Seven-foot spiders with glowing red eyes were _definitely_ on his ‘gives me the creeps’ list.

“Mistah Sinistah,” Remy growled.

Johnny’s eyes flew wide with surprise.

“Remy LeBeau,” the tall spider-guy replied in that dark smooth chilly voice. He glided into the chamber with a cold authority that Johnny is pretty sure would have caused all the lights to go out one by one the closer this guy got to them, if they were in a horror movie. “I heard about your mission with the satellite.” He clapped his hands once, twice, three times. “Bra-vo.”

“Ya couldn’t’a sent flowers or somethin’?” Remy strained against his restraints.

The dark man chuckled. “Always joking to cover your nerves.” He swooped closer. “How quaint.”

“Least Ah _have_ a sense a’ humor.”

“A rather useless skill to have.” The creepy dude came to a stop in front of Remy. His weird strappy cape fluttered around him with the slightest motion. “It’s gotten you into quite a lot of trouble, hasn’t it?”

Remy glared at him.

The dark creepy guy took a glass jar out of his coat and held it in front of Remy’s face. “Remember this?”

Remy’s eyes widened. The color drained out of his face.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smiled.

“Ah had tha’ taken ou’ fo’ a _reason_.”

“And I’m going to put it back _in_ for a reason.”

“Remy?” Johnny interrupted. “What’s he talking about? You—you _know_ this guy?”

“Johnny!” Remy started apologetically, stricken. “It’s no’ wha’ you think—"

“He had a chunk of his brain removed by me,” Mister Sinister explained, smiling coldly at Johnny. “He came to me years ago, _desperate_ for help, because his powers were growing too strong. He couldn’t control them. Everything he touched exploded. He couldn’t control the charge.” Sinister pulled on surgical gloves, one at a time. “Once I removed the chunk, his powers were brought back down to a manageable level.” He turned his sinister smile on Remy. “I’ve kept it all this time.”

“Ah don’ wan’ it!”

Mister Sinister patted Remy on the cheek. “But _I_ do.”

“You can’t-! You can’t just _force_ surgery on somebody!” Johnny protested, struggling against his restraints.

“Of course I can.” Mister Sinister telekinetically turned a crank so that Remy’s platform lay horizontally instead of vertically. “And you’ll be here to watch.”

* * *

Professor X opened his eyes and pushed himself up on his elbows. Jean Grey lay unconscious next to him, her features creased in a troubled frown. “Jean!” His voice was still weak.

“Rest, Professor,” Hank urged, pushing a furry hand against the Professor’s shoulder.

“She must have used Cerebro,” the Professor aptly guessed. He rubbed his forehead. “Even despite how dangerous it is..!”

“Jean acted of her own volition. She will recover soon,” Hank promised.

“I must try again. I can’t let Jean’s efforts be for naught!”

“We do not know that they _were_ for naught. She was unable to tell us what progress she’d made.”

“Professor,” Scott interrupted, “Jean asked me to be there with her. She wasn’t hurt. Just strained.”

The Professor cradled his aching head.

“Drink this,” Hank offered, holding out a steaming cup towards the Professor. It smelled like earl grey tea.

“So there’s no news on Gambit yet..?” Jubilee asked in the corner. She’d come in with a headache; Hank had given her tea.

“I couldn’t find him with Cerebro,” the Professor said. “I think something might be blocking his signature.”

“Who would be powerful enough to do that?” Hank worried.

“Maybe it’s the collar,” Jubilee suggested. Two pairs of eyes turned on her. She shrugged. “It takes away our powers, right? What if that’s making it so he doesn’t look like a mutant anymore?”

“That did occur to me,” the Professor admitted.

Jubilee hugged her knees. “Well then how are we gonna find him?”

“Johnny’s signature hasn’t changed. If we can find him… Hopefully Gambit will be nearby.”

“I sure hope so.”

“How is your headache, Jubilee?” Hank asked gently.

She picked up her empty tea cup. “Better.” She swirled the dregs around the bottom. “Would be a _lot_ better if we knew where Gambit and Johnny went.”

“We’ll just have to wait until Jean wakes up,” Hank said.

All four of them watched Jean’s sleeping face.

In another part of Xavier Institute, Rogue was waiting patiently while Logan gulped down the canister of coffee she’d brought him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy hand. “Thanks, kid.” He handed her the empty thermos.

Rogue accepted it and screwed the lid back on.

“You wanna tell me what’s been goin’ on?”

She set the canister in her lap and stared at it. “Johnny and Remy have been kidnapped.”

Logan snorted. “I gathered that much. I mean what’s going on with _you._ ”

She stilled. A vertical line appeared between her pursed brows.

“I haven’t seen you much, ‘cept when you snapped that collar around my neck. Wasn’t exactly my proudest moment. So how’ve you been?”

“I…” She fiddled with the canister. “Well…”

“That good, huh?”

Her cheeks pinkened.

“Hey.” Logan scooched closer and put a warm hand on her back. She jolted at the contact. “Easy- I’m not touchin’ ya. Just your shirt. See?” He rubbed her back between her shoulder blades to demonstrate. Rogue relaxed gradually. One side of Logan’s mouth quirked up. “How’s school?”

Rogue kept her eyes fixed on the ground. “It’s all right.”

“Classes hard?”

She shrugged a shoulder.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her spine. “What’s wrong, kid?”

She bit her lip. “Ah mentioned your nightmares in fronta’ Reed.” Her lips paled. “You told me never tuh tell anyone.”

“Hey. It worked, didn’t it?”

She shrank into herself. “You’re not mad?”

Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders, careful not to touch her skin. He pulled her into a one-armed hug. “You did what you had to. The only reason I’m not in screaming, agonizing pain right now is because’a you.”

She turned her face away, cheeks cherry red. “Not just me. Reed worked on the collars.”

“An’ _you’re_ the one that put it on me.”

“Well, Ah… y-yeah, but-“

“’But’ nothin’. That was brave’a you. An’ I’m nothin’ but grateful. So stop beatin’ yourself up about it, kid.”

Rogue said nothing. She just subtly leaned against Logan. Logan tucked his cheek against her hair and let her rest there.

* * *

Johnny did not want to be seeing this. He didn’t want this to be happening. But he was strapped to a wall, and the only thing he could do was screw his eyes shut and block it out. He didn’t want to do that, though, because this was _Remy,_ and he was in danger, and even if Johnny could do nothing to stop the dark creepy guy from operating on Remy’s brain, he at _least_ wanted to know what was happening.

The dark sinister guy was standing behind Remy’s prone body. An array of various metal instruments sat on a white towel on a tray next to him, and on the back corner of that towel sat a jar of what looked like a tiny gray rock floating in dirty water. So obviously it wasn’t a rock. Johnny didn’t want to think about what it actually was.

The dark sinister guy was humming something as he cut open the back of Remy’s skull.

Johnny really wished he could block out the sound effects.

Possibly the worst part of all this was that Remy was still conscious, and still trying to convince the guy performing brain surgery on him, to _not_ perform brain surgery on him. But the guy wasn’t listening. He just kept humming and picking up sharp-looking metal objects and cutting away parts of the back of Remy’s head until, presumably, he got to Remy’s brain, because then he was opening the jar and taking out the rock-looking thing and then he was putting the rock-looking thing _back into Remy’s head_ and Johnny did _not_ want to think about it.

“Why are ya doin’ this?!” Remy asked at last.

The pale man paused. “Because I have need of your particular… talents.”

“Makin’ me do your dirty work?”

“Remy,” he tutted, “Have I ever done things any other way?”

“Dere’s a slight problem wit’ your plan, homme. Dis collar cancels my powers.”

“How fortuitous that I can unlock it, then,” the dark sinister guy replied calmly as he sewed up the back of Remy’s head.

“Wha’!”

“I’ve seen what you can do,” Creepy Guy said smoothly as he assembled his instruments on the white towel, smearing blood here and there. “And I must say, I’m impressed. But not impressed _enough._ ”

“Wha’s tha’ supposed tu mean?”

The man smiled down at Remy in the most chilling way possible. “I think you need a little _push._ ”

Despite Remy’s increasingly frenzied questions, the dark sinister guy simply grinned, ignored him, ratcheted the platform back to an upright position, and exited the room with his tray of instruments.

Remy screamed after him, but the door closed and Remy’s words bounced off the cold metal, useless. “You’re makin’ a mistake!” echoed through the cold metal room.

Johnny’s arms were _really_ starting to hurt. “He must’ve been bluffing about the key. There’s no way he stole it.”

Remy’s head hung limp, angled towards his chest. “’e got us out of Xavier’s just fine, didn’t ‘e?”

Johnny confirmed this with silence. Remy was right. But… “Does he know you’re unstable right now? Does he know you’re gonna catch fire the second he takes that thing off you?”

“Ah think he _does_ know, cher.”

“Wait.” Johnny didn’t get it. “But if he _knows_ you can’t contain your powers right now, and he just put back a part’a your brain that just makes it even _harder_ for you to control your powers, then why is he—? … _Oh._ ”

The horrible truth sank in.

“Oh no.”

He didn’t know what this guy was planning to do, but whatever it was, it must need a _fuckton_ of energy.

“Ah’ll hold it off as long as Ah can,” Remy promised. “But… How far away do ya have tu be before ya can’t absorb mah heat no more?”

Johnny swallowed. “’Bout this distance.”

* * *

“Well isn’t this jelly on my toast,” Ben grumbled.

“What, Ben?” Reed asked tiredly.

Ben turned up the volume.

 _“…took down a spy satellite earlier this week. We have received new footage showing that these X-Men are out of control! We are not sure, but it_ seems _like they have taken on the powers of the Fantastic Four, who_ were _at the scene.”_

Shaky camera footage showed purple and orange fiery trails intertwining as Johnny struggled to capture Gambit, trees crashing in the background, Susan climbing on top of the spacecraft, and Ben crouching beside a sobbing Emma.

_“It certainly seems that the Fantastic Four were helping them.”_

_“But what was their goal? You know, it seems like too much of a coincidence that these X-Men gained the same powers as the Fantastic Four. It almost makes you wonder if it was on purpose.”_

_“What are you suggesting, Marie?”_

_“I’m not suggesting anything! But if someone were to look at this through a certain lens, it_ might _look like the Fantastic Four are trying to recruit other super heroes and give them more power. Given recent circumstances, that seems_ _downright_ dangerous. _”_

Ben turned off the set. “Cheap frauds.”

“I wonder who got that footage?” Reed frowned. “I don’t remember seeing any reporters on the scene.”

“Looked unprofessional,” Ben suggested. “Maybe a scared hunter.”

“Maybe,” Reed agreed, tapping his chin.

“Don’t know why I bother turnin’ on the news anymore. ‘s just depressing.” Ben lifted himself out of the arm chair and stretched.

Reed seemed deep in thought, so Ben kept his mouth shut and walked out quietly. He stepped aside to let Susan in.

“Have they found Johnny?” Susan asked as soon as she saw Reed.

Reed lifted his head, surprised. “Hm? Oh. I don’t know.”

Susan stretched her hands out angrily. “You don’t _know?_ ”

“I’ve got to work on this formula, Susan. Jean and the Professor will find him. There is nothing I can do. I may as well make myself useful, and I already promised to do this.” Reed rose as he spoke.

Susan glared at him. “So that’s it?! You’re not even going to try to help them?! You’re just going to forget about my brother?!”

“Susan. I’m not going to forget him. I’m just as worried as you are. But Jean and the Professor don’t _need_ my help finding Johnny. They need me to do something else.”

“I can’t _believe_ you!”

Her wrist communication unit lit up and chirruped. Susan twisted a button viciously and brought up the communication screen.

She was greeted by the Professor’s face. “Jean thinks she may have found something.”

“Johnny?” she asked hopefully.

“Perhaps. She sent out a call to every mutant in the area to be on the lookout for your brother, and to let us know immediately if they see him. But she noticed something else… troubling.” The Professor paused.

“What? What is it?!”

The Professor worried his lip, thinking. “Mister Sinister is in the area.”

“Mister Sinister?!” Reed interjected, at her side in an instant.

The Professor nodded gravely. “A very powerful mutant. He has telekinetic, telepathic, and teleporting abilities, as well as super speed, -strength, and invulnerability. There is a very real chance he is the one who kidnapped your brother.”

“Tell me you sent someone after him,” Susan pleaded, on edge.

“That’s what I’m doing right now,” The Professor confirmed. “Susan, gather your team and meet us in the docking bay. I am assembling a team to join you.”

“Professor,” Reed warned, “Shouldn’t someone stay here, in case Johnny _isn’t_ with him?”

“Even if he is not, you will need every strength you have, if you are facing Mister Sinister. Go with them, Reed. The formula can wait. My afflicted X-Men are not going anywhere.”

The Professor ended the call.

Reed’s mouth was set in a grim line. “Guess we’d better go find Ben.”

* * *

Mister Sinister left them alone for what felt like hours. Johnny had tried to pass the time by first reassuring Remy, and when that failed, asking increasingly silly Would-You-Rathers.

“Come on,” Johnny insisted. “Would you rather have a dog with _really_ bad breath lick peanut butter off your entire face, or have a wet dog sleep next to you in your bed?”

“Ah have _cats,_ homme.”

“All right, fine! Would you rather have a _cat_ lick peanut butter off your face, or have a wet _cat_ sleep next to you!”

Remy snorted. “Ah think de wet cat would scratch mah face off. An’ Ah don’ think cats like peanut butter.”

“Okay now you’re just stalling.”

Remy smiled weakly. “De second one.”

Johnny grinned. “Now it’s your turn!”

“Ah don’ feel much for games, homme.”

“Come onnn. We’re both stuck in here for who-knows-how-long, my arms are killing me, and it hurts every time I breathe, and Mister Creepy is gonna be back eventually for something I don’t even want to think about—what’re we gonna do while we wait? Stare off into space?”

Remy exhaled. “Ask me anotha’ one.”

And so they went on until Remy had answered everything from whether he’d eat one inedible thing over another, to which unfortunate place he’d rather be caught naked (“Anywhere, mon ami. Ah’m not shy.” Johnny had blushed), to which place he’d like to go on vacation (Paris).

Johnny had seemingly run out of questions. “My throat’s startin’ to hurt,” Johnny admitted, his voice worn and raspy.

“Ya don’ have tu keep talkin’, homme.”

“It’s better than staring into the creepy dungeon!”

“Give your voice a rest, homme. Ya don’ wanna hurt yourself.”

Reluctantly, Johnny had fallen silent. For about thirty seconds. And then he started tapping his hands against the wall, some rhythm to a song Remy couldn’t hear, and after doing that for a while, Johnny’s wrists must have gotten tired, because the tapping stopped and he fell silent once more.

The silence was broken several minutes later by the door hissing open as Mister Sinister stepped through. “Did you sleep well, Remy?”

“Ah didn’ sleep at _all_ , homme. Ah’m not exactly _comf’table_.”

“Mmm,” Mister Sinister hummed, “What a pity. I was hoping you’d be well-rested. I really do need you at your best.”

“Den why did ya chain me tu a wall?”

“So that you can’t escape.” Mister Sinister smiled. “Do you know what this is?” He gestured to a large metal archway in front of Remy.

“Ah don’ wanna know.”

“It’s a portal,” Mister Sinister explained anyway. “I need _you_ to get it working.”

“Too bad Ah’m not a mechanic.”

“Oh, it’s fully functional. What I need from you is your _energy._ You see, I could power it myself, but it would cause an _awful_ strain, and I couldn’t help notice recently that you seem to have acquired an excessive amount of energy. –Explosive, really.”

“So ya made it worse?”

Mister Sinister grinned. “Precisely.”

“Dis ain’t gonna work.”

“Oh, but it will. As soon as you release your energy, it’s going to be channeled through these wires you’re hooked up to.” He indicated the thick cords running down from Remy’s manacles. “It’s going to hurt quite a bit.”

“Wha’ makes you think Ah’m gonna do it?”

Mister Sinister leaned close to Remy and stroked a finger under Remy’s chin, just above the collar. “Fond of the boy, are you?” he murmured.

Remy knew something flickered across his face before he could recover his poker skills.

It was too late. Mister Sinister had seen. “It would be a shame if he got hurt,” he taunted, smiling. He filled Remy’s mind with a progression of images, all involving Johnny screaming and bleeding and begging Mister Sinister to stop.

“You leave him _alone!”_ Remy growled.

“Only if you cooperate.”

“Like hell Ah will!”

“I don’t care about him either way.”

Remy heard a click.

The collar around his neck loosened.

“He’s merely collateral damage.”

Mister Sinister pulled the collar from around Remy’s neck.

Remy tamped down the sudden surge of power with everything he had.

“Hold it in as long as you want,” Mister Sinister taunted, crossing the room towards Johnny. “You’ll explode eventually.”

Remy turned his head. Johnny was watching Mister Sinister with wide eyes.

“Stay _away_ from him!” Remy shouted.

“What—what are you doing? Hey! Crazy guy! I’m talkin’ to you! What’re you—?” He could see the moment Johnny realized what Mister Sinister meant to do, but they were both powerless to stop him as he clamped the collar around Johnny’s neck.

“I don’t know if this will work on you,” Mister Sinister crooned, “but I can’t have you trying to absorb his energy.”

He turned the collar on.

Johnny screamed in pain and struggled against his restraints.

“Johnny!!” Remy shouted.

“Hmm,” Mister Sinister hummed. “Interesting.” He stepped back to watch as electricity crackled around Johnny, whose body arched away from the wall as he screamed louder and louder until he slumped. A trail of electricity crackled up the wall behind his sagging form.

“JOHNNY!” Remy screamed.

“I think I may have killed him,” Mister Sinister observed. He had the gall to sound _amused_ by this.

Remy clenched his fists. His irises glowed. Face set in a ferocious glare, Remy roared and released all his heat and energy at once. He was instantly engulfed in a huge purple beam of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> canon: Mister Sinister removing a chunk of Remy's brain because Remy couldn't control his powers. He put it back in at a later date, and this surgery was consensual as well, unlike the surgery here, which is most definitely non-con.
> 
> also canon: Remy owns several cats.


	5. Chapter 5

The flight was short and tense. The Fantastic Four aircraft arrived at what seemed like an empty field, but seconds after they had landed, a purple beam erupted from the ground, knocking them all back with the force of its heat and energy.

“Gambit!” Jubilee shouted, worried.

“I hope not,” Susan said, helping Jubilee to her feet.

“Here!” Bobby pointed. “I found a trapdoor!”

Ben tore the door off its hinges and flung it behind him. It bounced off the ground. “Don’t have time fer doors,” he muttered.

They descended into the dark underground laboratory.

Susan was the first one to see him. Johnny was slumped over, his wrists and ankles bound with thick manacles, a collar around his neck. There were scorch marks behind him on the wall, but not a single scratch on the manacles. He didn’t respond to their approach.

Susan rushed towards him.

Jubilee made a beeline for Gambit, but she couldn’t get close. His energy kept knocking her aside. “Gambit!” she shouted, but he must not have been able to hear her. He just kept screaming.

Across from Gambit was an archway which was glowing around the edges. Inside of it appeared to be a wavering black space speckled with stars. The space inside the arch was pulsing and rippling, flickering to several different locations. A crack had begun to form in the top of the arch.

“Johnny!” Susan struggled with Johnny’s restraints.

“Let me get those,” Ben offered. He ripped the manacles straight out of the wall.

Johnny sagged forward. Susan caught him, calling his name.

“Now might be a good time tuh use that key,” Ben suggested.

Susan had almost forgotten she had it. The Professor had given her a key ‘just in case,’ right before they’d left. She fumbled with Johnny’s collar.

“Gambit!” Jubilee cried. “You have to _stop!_ ”

No matter how loud she shouted, he didn’t respond. The purple beam only grew wider and hotter. The top of the arch was _definitely_ cracking now, the space inside warping and flickering faster and faster.

Susan succeeded in releasing Johnny’s collar.

“Gambit!” Bobby shouted. “You gotta cool it, man!” he joked feebly, trying to conjure ice, but every attempt fizzled in a cloud of steam. “It’s too dry in here!” he called over his shoulder. He kept trying.

Storm called upon the powers of the earth and the sky, trying to summon enough water to form some rain. But the air was too hot, too dry. Her attempts proved fruitless.

“We need to get out of here,” Reed warned. The ceiling was beginning to shake, chunks of it falling here and there. “This whole place is gonna collapse.”

“No!” Jubilee screamed. “We can’t leave without Gambit!”

“Who’s gonna get the collar back on him?” Bobby pointed out. “We can’t even stand twelve feet away!”

“There’s got to be _something_ we can do!” Jubilee sobbed.

“Johnny, please!” Susan pleaded, cradling her brother. “Please wake up!”

Johnny was unresponsive.

Jubilee ran towards Johnny. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly. “Listen here, flame boy! Gambit needs you _right now!_ Wake your stupid ass up and _help_ him!”

“He’s unconscious, Jubilee,” Reed warned. “He’s not going to hear you.”

Gambit’s beam had engulfed nearly half the room. The top of the arch gave with a loud crack. The space between the arch started bubbling and slithering through the crack.

“We need to get out of here, _now!”_ Reed urged.

Jubilee kicked and screamed, but Reed was otherwise met with silence as everyone reached the conclusion that he was probably right. One by one, they climbed up out of the collapsing structure.

When Susan was halfway up the ladder, a huge chunk of the ceiling collapsed, but it never hit the floor. It evaporated in the sheer heat Gambit was giving off.

Whether it was that, or something else, Susan would never know, but suddenly Johnny was awake, and she barely had time to register this before he shouted “Remy!” and dove out of her grasp.

He was on fire and halfway across the room before Susan could move again. As much as she wanted to stop her idiot brother, it was too hot and too loud in there for her to do anything but escape. She was met with questioning glances from the others as they realized, with alarm, that Johnny was no longer draped over her shoulder. She didn’t have time to explain. The ceiling of the structure gave way, and they had to scramble away from the collapsing ground, away from the clearing.

Johnny hovered in front of Gambit. “REMY!” he shouted as loudly as he could. It took every bit of strength he had to reach through the beam and grab the sides of Remy’s face, but he did. “REMY, STOP!” he shouted over Remy’s screaming. He tried to absorb some of Remy’s heat, but it was like trying to catch a fan blade when it was going at maximum speed. He took in a deep breath. He concentrated hard and tried again.

The beam began to narrow. Susan worried at first that Remy was only ratcheting up the intensity another notch, sure that the beam would expand again and whatever reality-warping portal had been opened would only grow larger and more powerful, but whatever Johnny was doing, it seemed to be working. The beam narrowed more.

Johnny had to fight less and less as the beam dissipated. He brought his forehead against Remy’s and took in as much heat and energy as he could. “Remy, come on!” he urged. “You can do this, man! You just gotta focus _in_ , instead a’ out.” Johnny was focusing intensely.

The beam narrowed to a line and disappeared.

Remy’s screaming ebbed to a stop. He was a normal temperature now. Johnny lifted his head. Remy searched his face. “Johnny!” he croaked, voice hoarse. There was a whole shitton of emotion there Johnny couldn’t even begin to analyze (much less _recog_ nize).

“Yeah hi,” Johnny said distractedly. “’Scuse me for a minute.” He abruptly let Remy go, flew as fast and high as he could, and released all the pent-up energy in a giant ball of fire.

Luckily, he’d been wearing his costume this time.

He flew back down to where Remy was still chained to a platform and hovered in front of him. “Holy shit. No _wonder_ you wanted that thing removed.”

“Ah can’t hold it in,” Remy warned. “Anythin’ mah skin touches is gonna explode.”

“But you can touch _me_ , right?”

Remy’s eyes darted back and forth over Johnny’s face. “Yeah…”

“Okay.” Johnny said softly, with a reassuring little smile. He reached out to gently cup the side of Remy’s neck. “Just don’t touch anything else.”

Remy raised his eyebrows. “So Ah can _only_ touch you, mon ami?” he asked in a very low voice.

Johnny’s eyes widened. He froze. “Uh.”

Remy gave him a pointed onceover, letting his eyelids droop, a smirk quirking his lips.

Johnny’s mind raced wildly, totally scrambled. His face started to glow. The tips of his ears caught on fire.

“Johnny!” Jubilee called from the edge of the crater.

Johnny startled, having forgotten anyone else was there.

Jubilee waved the collar over her head with one hand and pointed at it with the other.

“The collar.” Johnny cleared his throat. “Uh. _Or_ you could just wear the collar.” He laughed nervously.

“Ah think tha’ would be more practical,” Remy purred.

Johnny was bright red. “Be right back!” He flew over to Jubilee, grabbed the collar, and returned to Gambit. He hurried his motions, avoiding eye contact.

Once the collar was safely around Remy’s neck, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Despite the onslaught of heat and energy, the manacles holding Remy were still in place.

“Uh,” Johnny called, hovering near Gambit, facing the group, “Would someone mind letting him outta this thing?”

* * *

Remy had no objections whatsoever to being put back in a safe cell on the lower level. He was actually relieved to hear there’d be a security detail on him 24/7. “Nevah thought Ah’d be glad tu hear those words.” After Remy had been escorted to his cell, Johnny hesitated.

“I wanna ask him something,” Johnny said nervously.

The others exchanged shrugs and told Johnny to meet them upstairs when he was done. Johnny promised he would.

Once they left, Remy asked quietly, “What is it, mon ami?”

Johnny dismissed the thing on Remy’s face that looked like hope and told himself he was seeing things and maybe going slightly crazy. “They don’t know about the surgery,” Johnny replied just as quietly. He fiddled with his fingers, nerves apparent. “Should I tell them?”

And that definitely wasn’t disappointment on his face, Remy was just being serious. “De Professah knows. Tell him.”

Johnny nodded, sober. But he didn’t leave.

“…Is dere somethin’ else, mon ami?” And that was definitely not hope again.

Johnny was quiet for a long moment, weighing his words. “You were able to hold back at first,” he said at last. “The, uh. –The energy thing. What made you let go like that? …Was it just too much to hold back?”

“Ah coulda held back longah,” Remy admitted. “But den…”

Johnny hadn’t even realized his hand was pressed against the glass. His fingers curled, as though trying to grab the smooth surface. “’Then’ what?”

Remyquietly studied Johnny’s face and shoulders for a long moment. His expression turned stormy. “Ah saw you…” He looked away. “You were in so much pain, an’ den…” Remy’s fist curled into a fist against the glass. “Ah thought you were dead.”

 “You…” Johnny licked his chapped lips. He felt oddly lightheaded. “You did all that ‘cause’a _me?”_

Remy didn’t say anything. Several things flickered through his expression. He let it settle in, not denying it.

Johnny opened his mouth like he was gonna say something, then changed his mind, then said, “Why?”

Several more things flickered across Remy’s face, each more vulnerable than the last. He cracked a weak half-smile. “Ah didn’ wan’ you dead.”

“Gosh,” Johnny joked numbly, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Remy wasn’t sure when he aligned his hand against the glass with Johnny’s. “It’s true.”

“You, uh…” Johnny realized how close he was leaning until his breath fogged up the glass. He backed away, but his hand remained where it was. “You didn’t, by any chance, do that charm thing again while you still had your powers, did you?”

A little frown creased Remy’s perfectly-shaped eyebrows. “Non.”

Johnny laughed oddly and pulled his hand away from the glass. “Just wondering.” He cleared his throat. “I’m, uh. –I’m gonna go tell the Professor you need surgery.” He turned away. “See you, Remy.”

“See you,” Remy said softly as Johnny walked away.

* * *

Red eyes flicked open in the dark. If he didn’t heal near-instantly, Mister Sinister was sure he’d have one hell of a headache. The roof had collapsed on top of him.

He’d fled to a back room as soon as Gambit released his energy. There had always been the possibility that the poor man would burn himself out, and take half the room with him.

But he hadn’t been counting on the possibility that Gambit could do _this._

What had been a room was now little more than a bowl of rubble, and the piece de resistance in the middle attested further to what this man’s powers could do: the portal had cracked straight down the middle. It was still glowing, the space inside warping and bubbling, and a worrisome stream had escaped through the top of the portal and was beginning to form a bubble over the top of the broken arch.

He caught glimpses of at least a dozen dimensions in its depths. And none of them had been the one he was aiming for.

Mister Sinister calmly approached the controls, only to find they were crackling with electricity, half-melted, and fried. That wasn’t good. He couldn’t close the portal.

Perhaps he could contain it.

Building things had never been his favorite hobby, but it was sometimes necessary. He was in the midst of gathering the larger pieces of fallen ceiling when a large shadow fell across the wall in front of him. “Sinister,” said the one voice he did not want to hear.

“Apocalypse,” he greeted as though he was happy to see him. A hint of wariness crept into his tone.

Apocalypse stepped closer, intimidation rolling off of him in waves. “What have you done?”

* * *

“Johnny,” the Professor greeted as Johnny entered the room. “Do you know Mister Sinister’s motivations for abducting the two of you?”

Johnny was caught off-guard, head swimming with things he’d almost said. “Uh.” The Professor’s question caught up with him. “Look man, he didn’t mean to kidnap me. I was just kind of a ‘buy one, get one free.’” Everyone’s attention was focused on him. Which usually he liked, but right now it was just awkward. “He wanted Gambit to power something. I think he knew about the whole space-thing somehow. ‘Cause he knew to take off the collar, an’ he did it on purpose.”

The Professor frowned deeply and steepled his fingers.

Johnny shifted uncomfortably. “Um. Professor? Can I talk to you? Like… _just_ you?”

The Professor weighed this question before acquiescing. “Yes, Johnny.” He waved for the others to go.

Johnny waited ‘till he was _sure_ they were gone. “Um…” He approached the Professor. “You know how Gambit had that surgery, a long time ago?” At the Professor’s blank look, he lowered his voice and elaborated, “On his _brain_?”

The Professor’s expression cleared.

“Well, that Sinister dude put it back.”

The Professor frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah man.” Johnny pulled a face, squeamish. “I watched it.”

The Professor turned his chair and started wheeling himself across the room.

Johnny chased after him. “He wants it out!”

“I know,” the Professor said without turning around. “I’m alerting Doctor McCoy.”

“Okay.” Johnny stopped. “Cool.”

The Professor wheeled away, deep in thought.

Johnny sighed. He’d just been kidnapped, rescued, and all anyone wanted to know about was Gambit. He thought he deserved at least some ice cream or something.

Johnny headed to the kitchen to raid the freezer.

He was shoveling Midnight Snack into his mouth when Ben grouched in. “See any peanut butter?” he grunted.

“Top shelf.” Johnny pointed at the pantry over his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Ben sat next to him a minute later with a jar of peanut butter and a large spoon.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” Johnny teased.

“Damn newscasters got it all wrong.”

“Aw, Ben. You know they’re all full’a crap.”

“Walked past a room an’ overheard. Dunno how they got the story so quick. Someone caught wind a’ Gambit’s freakout earlier. There’s some bullshit spreadin’ like wildfire about how we’re turned evil now an’ tryin’ to take the X-Men down with us.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Ben, that’s ridiculous. No one’s gonna believe that.”

“The newscasters seemed ta.”

“Newscasters are full’a crap.”

“You can say that again.” Ben shoveled peanut butter into his mouth.

Johnny took another huge mouthful of ice cream.

“You guys okay?” Rogue asked from the doorway. She’d developed a habit of making herself small, likely so she wouldn’t touch anybody on accident.

Johnny turned to her, spoon in his mouth, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, why?” Ben answered.

Rogue played with the hem of her shirt. “Remy jus’ got wheeled into surgery.”

Johnny sprang out of his chair. “Surgery! Is he okay?!”

“Yeah.” Rogue tucked her white streak behind her ear. “At least, Ah think so. He didn’ seem worried.”

Johnny remembered that he’d just told the Professor not ten minutes ago that Remy needed surgery. He sank back into his chair, a hand over his face. He let out a breath. “Jeez, man, don’t _scare_ me like that!”

“Sorry.” Rogue worried the hem of her shirt. “Mind if Ah join you guys?”

Ben gestured to the empty chair to his right. “Plenty a’ room.”

Rogue smiled hesitantly and sat down with a box of mint-chocolate cookies.

“How’s Wolverine?” Ben grunted.

Rogue dropped the cookie she was holding, eyes wide.

“Saw you down there,” he explained casually.

“He—he’s all right.” She blushed and picked up her cookie.

“Man,” Ben said to no one in particular, “I miss bein’ young an’ bashful.”

* * *

Johnny’s nerves got the best of him. He found himself pacing back and forth in front of the medical wing. It was stupid. He shouldn’t even  _be_ here. He was sure Remy would be fine. But what if he wasn’t?

He jumped when Hank opened the door and kindly announced the surgery was over, and Gambit was fine.

“Can—can I come in?”

“Of course.” Hank held the door open for Johnny.

Johnny approached Gambit’s bed, knots tied in his stomach. “Did you, uh. Throw it away?”

“The brain matter has been disposed of, as per Gambit’s wishes,” Hank assured.

“Okay. Cool.” Johnny scanned Remy’s face. “Is he, um..?”

“He is resting.” Hank washed something in the sink.

“Oh.” Johnny debated whether to reach out and tuck back that lock of coppery hair that had flopped onto Remy’s forehead.

“I must check on my other patient,” Hank apologized.

“Okay,” Johnny answered, half-listening. Tentatively, his touch as light as a butterfly’s wing, he brushed the lock of hair out of Remy’s forehead.

Remy caught his wrist.

Johnny gasped.

Remy opened his eyes halfway and held up a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he whispered very quietly. He tugged Johnny’s wrist closer.

Johnny wondered wildly what Remy was doing. He found himself being pulled closer and closer until his nose was pressed against Remy’s collarbone. Remy wrapped his arms around him. “Been wantin’ tu do tha’ for a while,” he murmured.

Johnny’s heart was pounding so hard there was _no way_ Remy did not feel that. “What are you doing?” he said, panic rising.

“Huggin’ you.”

Johnny lifted his head; his cheeks were starting to burn. “You know I overheat when I—!” Johnny cut himself off, not wanting to complete that sentence, not wanting to acknowledge whatever it was he was feeling. The fear was so much easier to face than the reasons behind the fear.

“Ah can handle it.”

Johnny tried to pull away, but Remy’s grip only tightened. Johnny’s cheeks burned hot. The rest of him was starting to heat up too. “Are you _trying_ to get burned?!”

“Johnny,” Remy soothed, “Listen tu me. Ya don’ gotta be scared.”

“Yes I do!”

_“Listen,_ mon ami. You can touch me withou’ gettin’ hurt. Ah can do de same.”

“Only because we have the same powers!” Johnny tried to get away again, but Remy held him tight. A pit formed in the center of his abdomen. “As soon as Reed comes up with a cure, you and the other guys aren’t gonna have cosmic powers anymore.”

“But Ah can still touch you.”

“No you can’t!”

“ _Johnny._ ” Remy’s eyes smoldered. “My powers include control ovah energy. Fire is a _form_ of energy.”

“Okay,” Johnny said, not really believing him, “But right now, you don’t have _any_ powers, and if you keep looking at me like that—!” Johnny’s heat cranked up another notch. That was yet another sentence he didn’t want to finish.

Remy pulled him closer. “Ah trust you.”

“Remy,” Johnny pleaded, struggling half-heartedly. He didn’t want to let go, but he also _really_ didn’t want to hurt him.

“Ya haven’ burned me so far,” Remy pointed out. “An’ when ya touched me las’ time, Ah felt it. Ya weren’ jus’ suckin’ out de heat, Johnny. Ya took energy with ya too.”

“It was a fluke.” Johnny babbled. “It’s not gonna happen again. You’re not gonna lose control like that again. You’ve got the collar again, an’ Reed’s workin’ hard on a cure, an’ once you got that, you’ve got nuthin’ to worry about anymore, and then you’ll be back to your regular single-powered self, unless you count charm as a separate thing in which case you have _two_ powers, both of which are awesome, by the way, but, but right now you don’t have _any_ powers and I don’t know what it is about you that makes me—! You gotta—!” Johnny tried to pull away again. His head was so hot he was giving off heat waves.

“Ah’m _sayin’,_ our powers are compatible.”

Johnny’s heart stumbled. Remy’s eyes were very warm right now. So was Johnny’s skin. Remy’s hospital robe started to smoke. Eyes wide, Johnny wrenched himself out of Remy’s grasp, stumbled out of his chair, and fled.

* * *

Jean Grey escorted Gambit back to his cell. Gambit was unusually docile and hadn’t said a single flirtatious word to her. She was concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want Hank to take another look at you?”

“Ah’m fine, chère.”

“You’re not acting like yourself.”

Gambit’s smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah’m jus’ tired, chère. Gambit been drained by his recent ordeal.”

“If you’re sure…”

The door hissed shut behind him; the mechanical lock clicked into place. “Gambit jus’ need a nap or somethin’,” his voice said over the speaker outside his cell.

“I’ll send someone to check on you.”

Gambit didn’t answer. He was making himself comfortable on the nest of blankets and pillows in his cell. He found a card between the folds of a blanket. He picked up the card. His eyes widened a fraction. Then, a sad, rueful smile tugged across his face. He set the card down next to the pillow where he rested his head, his back turned to the door.

Jean left him to his rest. She was halted on her way to the elevator, however, by Emma’s voice. “Jean.”

Jean turned towards her cell.

“How close are we to finding a cure?”

Emma was reclined on her throne of pillows, a stack of books facedown next to her. She was holding one, half-finished, in her lap.

“I’m not sure,” Jean answered. “Reed and Hank’s attention has been divided, since Gambit was kidnapped. But they’re working hard on it. You’ll have to be patient.”

Emma sighed. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d let me out.”

“It’s not safe,” Jean answered hesitantly.

“Have I caused you any destruction since you gave me the collar?” Emma challenged.

“No,” Jean admitted. “Neither has Kurt. Or Logan…”

“Exactly.” Emma stood. “I see no reason why we should not be allowed an occasional change of scenery. We are powerless as it is, and so far, Gambit is the only one who’s been in any danger.”

“I’ll consider it…”

“Put security detail on me if you have to. I honestly just want to stretch my legs.”

Jean examined Emma, weighing her options. A security detail would make her feel infinitely more confident that things would not go awry. “…I’ll see what I can do.”

She headed to the main floor. She was completely unsurprised to find Ben Grimm in the kitchen. “Ben. I need to talk to you.”

Ben paused with a sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Emma wants to be let out of her cell. She needs a security detail. I was wondering if you would mind being her escort.”

Ben frowned. “Nuh uh. No way.”

“How come Emma gets let out of her cell and not the others?” Jubilee pointed out. There was chocolate smeared on her cheek.

“The others are going to be let out. It would be unfair if Emma was the only one allowed out of her cage. But they all need security detail, especially after the incident with Gambit.”

“I’ll go with Gambit!” Jubilee proclaimed, licking off her fingers.

“Gambit doesn’t want to be let out of his cell,” Jean informed her regretfully.

“What! Aww that’s no fun!”

“Go easy on him. He’s just had surgery,” Jean admonished gently.

Jubilee sighed dramatically. “Big baby.”

“Who’re the ‘security’ people for the other two?” Ben asked.

“I haven’t asked yet.”

“Rogue could babysit Wolvie,” Jubilee suggested.

Jean sent a questioning glance at Rogue, who was watching them from a corner. Rogue shrugged one shoulder and said “Ah guess…”

“I’ll go find Susan,” Ben grumbled. “She’ll want ta babysit Nightcrawler.”

“There’s no need.” Jean put two fingers to her temples, closed her eyes, and called out to Susan psychically. She opened her eyes. “She’ll be down in two minutes.”

“Wish I could do that,” Ben griped.

“We’re going now?”

“Yes, Rogue. Come to the lower level. We need to discuss some ground rules before we let them out.”

* * *

The rules were pretty simple: don’t let them out of your sight, don’t take the collars off, don’t leave the grounds.

“So what do you wanna do?” Ben asked once Emma was out of her cell.

“I want to take a walk around the gardens.”

“In _winter?”_

“They’re beautiful this time of year,” Emma answered, totally unbothered. “Have you ever seen a garden in the snow?”

“Not much ta look at, ‘sides dead plants. But whatever floats your boat.”

Ben half-listened to the other conversations, not wanting to eavesdrop. Kurt wanted to visit the kitchen, and Logan thought that sounded like a swell idea too. Why did Ben hafta get the crazy one? “-You’re sure you wanna go outside, and not, say, to the nice, warm kitchen?”

“I’m sure.”

Ben sighed. Of course.

He and Emma walked side-by-side through the hallways. Emma was looking around like she hadn’t seen the place in years. Ben wanted to point that out, and add that she was only locked away for a few days, but he didn’t want to talk to Emma any more than he had to. She was the kinda person that always had an agenda. He just had this feeling. And he wasn’t about to be anyone’s sucker.

Once they stepped outside, Emma’s entire face lit up. He’d never seen her smile like that. She seemed so radiant. So content. She was downright beautiful.

Emma led him through the gardens, admiring this dead tree here and that dead tree there, pointing out fountains that weren’t running and rock engravings too covered with snow to be legible. And she did this all with a quiet grace and poise that somehow made her exuberance seem elegant.

Ben held onto his bitterness, refusing to be sucked in. She was weird. He’d leave it at that.

“Not a fan of winter?” she guessed at last.

Ben shrugged his rocky shoulders. “I don’t give a crap. It’s just cold and wet, and everything’s dead. Don’t see what the big deal is.”

Her silvery-blue eyes sparkled. “It’s not dead, though. Merely dormant. Come spring, these trees will flower again. The fountains will start running. Grass will spring up between the cracks.”

“Yeah. So why don’t’cha love spring then? ‘Cause that’s what it sounds like.”

“I like winter because there’s snow.”

Ben snorted. “What’s so great about snow?”

“Well…”

And the next thing he knew, there was a snowball splattered across his face.

He turned slowly. “Oh. You’re gonna pay for that.”

Emma grinned. “Catch me if you can.”

She threw another snowball.

When Kurt, Susan, Logan, and Rogue walked outside, having decided that a walk in the gardens did sound nice after all, they were greeted with the spectacle of Ben and Emma chasing each other around in circles, throwing snowballs at each other. Ben’s were the size of beach balls. Emma’s were the size of fists. Both of them were covered in snow.

“Now that looks like my kinda fun!” Logan scooped up some snow and grinned at Rogue.

“No. Oh no.” She tried to hide behind Susan.

Logan’s snowball hit her in the shoulder.

Rogue ducked and hid around Susan, using her as a human shield, when Susan got an idea. “Rogue!” She turned around.

“Yeah?”

Susan kissed her on the cheek.

Rogue backed away in shock. She thought wildly that Susan must have forgotten, and her mind was racing a mile a minute to figure out why she would kiss her on the cheek.

Susan formed a shield. Logan’s snowball splattered against it. She grinned at Rogue over her shoulder. “Was that enough? Can you form a shield?”

Abruptly Rogue realized what Susan had done. “Ah—Ah don’t know how!”

“Just think protective thoughts!” Susan’s shield had given her enough time to scoop up some snow and throw it back at Logan.

Rogue tried. It took a few attempts before she managed a wispy shield.

“There you go!” Susan called proudly.

Kurt hit Logan with a snowball from behind. Logan was so surprised and so focused on forming a snowball to hit Kurt with- “You can’t teleport _this_ time, elf!”- that he left himself completely open to Rogue’s attack.

Logan’s face was comical as yet another snowball hit him from behind. He turned slowly. “Ganging up on me, huh?”

Rogue squealed and formed another force field.

The four of them lobbed snowballs at each other, three against one. Emma and Ben’s fight migrated into the middle of their crossfire. Emma was hit with one of the snowballs meant for Logan. She lobbed one of her snowballs at the offending party. The battles merged.

Unnoticed by the others, having not fired a single snowball at anyone except Emma, Ben built a large snowy fortress. Rogue’s borrowed powers were wearing off.

“Behind here!” Ben called.

Rogue ducked behind the wall gratefully.

“That’s cheating!” Emma called.

“Susan’s using her powers! _That’s_ cheating!”

“Is not!” Sue insisted, blocking one snowball with a shield and throwing another one.

Rogue was forming a pile of snowballs, out of sight of the others.

“Can I use one’a those?”

Rogue smiled and gave him a nod.

Ben lobbed a snowball at Emma when she wasn’t looking and hid back behind the wall.

Emma gave an outraged squawk.

The battle raged on until they were all cold and covered in snow. The laughing group brushed themselves off, shared and re-shared the highlights of the fight, and laughed their way to the kitchen. Hot cocoa was shared all around.

Jubilee complained, only half-meaning it, that they were dripping all over everything as the remaining snow melted off, but Logan pointed out it was only because Jubilee was jealous she and the Cajun didn’t get to join the fight. “Where is he, anyway?” Logan asked, almost as an afterthought.

“He didn’t wanna come out of his cage.” Jubilee pouted.

“Weird. The Cajun loves himself a good snowball fight.”

“Yeah, well so do I! You coulda invited me!”

Logan shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t know that’s what we were gonna do.” He drank the rest of his cocoa.

“Ve should do zis again!” Kurt enthused.

“We should!” Rogue agreed. She’d had a surprising amount of fun.

“Maybe we will.” Logan’s eyes glittered.

Rogue smiled.

“I hate to burst everyone’s bubble,” said Jean from the doorway, “but they _do_ need to get back to the holding level.”

Collectively, their faces fell.

“But ve can be let out again, ja?”

Jean gave a single nod. “Yes, Kurt. As long as you have supervision.”

Kurt nodded, resigned to his fate. “Perhaps tomorrow, zen.”

“Perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (and we end on a nice, fluffy note... for now *ominous laughter*)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: this chapter contains some NSFW material. Nothing explicit though

Bishop landed roughly on one knee. “It’s even worse than we suspected,” he said to himself. He unwound from his crouch and stood.

The void was consuming everything.

He skirted the crater, searching for the source of the irregularity. The undulating black mass was only growing bigger by the second. Everything around it had bent or warped towards it, as though the void had become dense enough to generate its own gravitational field. The void appeared to flow from the remains of a broken-down arch near the middle of the pit.

Bishop’s jaw was clenched. There were unmistakable traces of Sinister, as well as troubling hints of what looked like—“Apocalypse.” He’d been here too. If Sinister and Apocalypse were working together again…

He punched several buttons on his wrist. A screen appeared. “Bishop!” greeted Professor Xavier with surprise. “How are—?”

“I don’t have time for formalities,” Bishop cut him off. “One of your X-Men caused a rift in reality which seems to be the source of several anomalies along the space-time continuum, and has sent repercussions into _my_ future.” He swiveled his wrist to show Professor X the swirling void.

“I… am sorry, Bishop. I had no idea.”

“’Sorry’ don’t cut it. If we don’t stop this thing, it’s gonna consume everything— past, present, _and_ future. And I’d really like to have a future to come home to.”

“Of course. We all would.”

“You need to assemble a team of your most brilliant scientists before _I_ do. I already know the top scientific minds of this time. But I’d rather not interfere with their time stream.”

“Understood. I will alert my team at once.”

The Professor’s face blipped out as the communication ended. Bishop frowned at the bubbling void. Occasionally, hands would reach out of it, only to be cut off and fall to the ground, smoking where they’d been severed. The void was already beginning to harm people. He didn’t care what species they were. No one deserved that.

“The time traveler,” said a slightly mechanical voice behind him.

“Apocalypse.” Bishop turned around.

“I see you have discovered what my idiot apprentice has done.”

“Apprentice?”

Apocalypse took a step closer. Bishop went into a battle stance, but the monolithic man merely frowned at the void disparagingly. “Such a rookie mistake. Really, he seemed to have so much promise.”

“What have you done with Sinister?”

“Only what he deserved.”

“So this was his doing?” Sources had said it was Gambit. Bishop had never trusted the Cajun card shark. The guy was a womanizing thief. He had dishonesty written all over him.

“It was his idea.” Apocalypse stared into the void. “I almost hate to see it go. Destruction is so beautiful, you know.”

“You’re sick.” So it had been both of their doing- Sinister and Gambit. His two favorite people.

“But you are seeking to contain it?” Apocalypse asked.

“More than _you’re_ doing.”

“I already tried.” Apocalypse _hated_ admitting when he didn’t have enough power to do things.

“So you’re saying, you actually want me to do this.”

“How can I take over a world that does not exist?”

Bishop shivered. He slowly backed away, weapon drawn. “You know I’m coming after you when I’m through with this.”

“I look forward to it,” Apocalypse taunted.

Bishop kept backing away, never taking his eyes off Apocalypse, but Apocalypse was ignoring him in favor of admiring the void. He wasn’t sure what made him more uneasy—that he’d just had a nonviolent conversation with Apocalypse, or that Apocalypse was actually staring at that thing like it was beautiful.

Three. He had three favorite people.

* * *

“A rift in reality?!” Reed furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“And it’s getting _bigger?”_

The Professor nodded. “Bishop said the rift is causing repercussions across time. It needs to be mended.”

“I don’t know about mending it,” Reed worried, deep in thought. “Sue could send up a shield to contain it, temporarily, but mending it would… How did it open?”

“When Gambit was forced to release his powers, they were being directed at a portal which we can only assume was meant to be a doorway between realities. The doorway has since been destroyed, and the void has escaped from its remains.”

Reed contemplated this for a long moment, frowning deeply. He glanced at Hank. “I’m sorry,” he began.

“It’s all right. We have isolated the mutation. It is only a matter of time before we produce a proper solution.”

“You don’t mind working on it alone?”

Hank shook his huge, furry head. “Go on. This is more important. I’ll stay here and test our samples. Perhaps I can develop something further, once I get the results.”

Reed’s shoulders sagged. “All right. Professor? I’ll send for Susan. The least we can do is contain it in the meantime.”

“Let me know if there is anything you need.”

“Will do, Professor.” Reed rushed down the hallway, turning on his wrist communicator.

“Hello?” Susan answered.

“Sue. Suit up. I need you on a mission.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“…I’m already in our room. Give me five minutes.”

“Meet me in the hangar.” Click.

Reed was definitely not thrilled to be taken away from his scientific research, but duty called. He readied the Fantastic Four aircraft for takeoff. It had been a while since he’d gone on a mission with only Sue. He was uncertain how smoothly it would go.

She showed up exactly when she said she would. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the site where we found Gambit. He’s opened a rift in reality. We need to contain it.”

“Is that what that thing was?” Susan remembered the broken arch.

“Yes. How long can you maintain a force field?”

“As long as I need to.”

“Weeks? Days?”

“I’ve never tried to hold one that long.”

“All right. Just hold it as long as you can. I’m going to try to find a way to patch it, but I’ll need to leave you there.”

Susan gave him a look. “You’re going to drive me there and drop me off?”

“I need to take a look at the rift. I need to know what I’m working with,” Reed hedged.

Susan’s mouth thinned, grim. “At least bring someone to keep me company.”

“Are you sure that won’t hinder your concentration?”

“It’s just a force field, Reed. I can do those in my sleep.”

And it was true. She could. “…All right. I’ll bring someone when I get back.”

Susan frowned. “Don’t leave me there for days, okay?”

“I won’t,” Reed promised.

After they landed, Susan contained the rift in a giant bubble. The rift expanded randomly, sometimes seeming to seek out the edges of the bubble, but for the most part, it just shifted shapes uneasily and appeared a jelly-like black lump sparkling with stars.

Reed gaped at it, equal parts awed and horrified. The rift was _huge_. “How did we miss this?!”

“I don’t know,” Susan grunted, thickening the walls of her force field, “Might have had something to do with Johnny almost dying.”

“We should have noticed.” Reed stopped looking lost and snapped to an intense focus.

Susan let him think.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Reed promised. “Can you hold it that long?”

“It won’t be easy,” Susan warned, “But yes. Whatever this is, it’s trying to escape.”

“I’ll be back as fast as I can.” He paused at the on-ramp to the aircraft and added, in a very serious tone, “I promise.”

“Go,” she urged.

He did.

* * *

“Ah don’ think dis is a good idea, homme.”

“The same power that opened it should be able to close it,” Reed insisted.

“But Ah was outta control! Ah didn’ know what Ah was doin’!”

“Johnny will be there to help you control your powers. Please, you have to try. I could manufacture a machine that could do the same thing, but that would take days. I don’t know if we _have_ that long.”

Gambit shifted his weight uneasily. He contemplated his options. Quietly, he asked, “Ya said Johnny will be dere?”

“He has to be. He’s the only one who’s been able to touch you without your collar.”

Gambit glanced at something on the floor behind him. “…Ah still don’ think it’s a good idea, homme.”

“But you have to try.”

“Ah’ll try.” He picked up the Spongebob card off the floor and regarded it with deep sentiment. “Ah jus’ don’ think it’ll work.”

Johnny didn’t take it much better.

“You want me to _what!”_

“The rift should be able to be closed the same way it was opened. Gambit needs your help. You’re the only one who can withstand the full extent of his powers.”

“So you want me to go with him and take off his collar and, what, just blast a hole in space-time?!”

“There’s _already_ a hole in space-time.”

“Yeah? And what are we gonna to do, make it worse?! How the heck are we supposed to fix it!?”

“Maybe his power just needs to be directed differently.”

“The guy goes out of his mind every time that collar comes off!”

“That’s why we need you there. To ground him.”

“Ground him?! What do you mean, ‘ground’? Isn’t _Ben_ your ground guy?”

“Gambit trusts you,” Reed explained sternly. “You’ve done it before. Please, Gambit has already agreed to do it. We’re going to need you there.”

“This is crazy!”

“But you’ll do it?”

Johnny let out a frustrated noise and stomped around in a circle. “All right! Fine! But if we make it worse, _I’m blaming you!”_ He pointed emphatically at Reed.

“Blame taken.” 

* * *

“I asked for a team. And I get this?” Bishop raged. “Three of the Fantastic Four, and the guy responsible for this in the first place?!”

“I have a plan,” Reed insisted.

“If your plan doesn’t work, he could _destroy reality!”_

“I’m counting on him. He won’t.”

“In what bizarre universe does counting on someone guarantee anything!”

“Have a little faith, Bishop.” Reed lowered his voice so only Bishop could hear. “They need to believe they can do this, or there’s a very real chance they _could_ fail.”

“You’re crazy. This is a terrible plan,” Bishop replied, slightly less quiet.

“This is my only plan,” Reed confided, still quiet. Louder, he asked, “Are you ready, boys?”

“Ready as Ah’ll evah be.” Gambit was clearly not looking forward to this.

“The portal opened when you were filled with rage and destruction, right? So all you have to do is think healing thoughts. Think of building and fixing, rather than destroying. Can you do that?” Reed asked, very serious.

Gambit glanced at Johnny. “…Yeah. Ah think Ah can do tha’.”

Reed unlocked his collar and stepped away, collar in-hand. “Good luck.” To Susan, he called, “Let down the shield!”

Susan winced, concentrating hard on containing the bubbling void. “Are you sure?”

“You got this,” Johnny assured uncertainly.

Gambit grabbed Johnny’s hand. Johnny gulped. The contact was sudden and unexpected. Everywhere their skin was touching tingled. Johnny’s ears glowed red. He tried to pull his hand away.

“Don’ let go!” Remy pleaded, gripping Johnny’s hand tightly.

The fear in Remy’s voice stopped him. Johnny paused, then shifted his hand, adjusting the angle, and slowly interlaced their fingers. His cheeks glowed red too. “I won’t.”

“Johnny?” Remy asked, fear rising as Susan dropped the shield.

“Yeah?”

“Remembah how we was playin’ cards when we got kidnapped, an’ we thought all of ‘em got burned?”

Johnny remembered. “Yeah.”

“Ah found one.”

“You did?”

Remy nodded. “Ah’ll show it tu ya when we get back.”

Johnny gave Remy’s hand a squeeze. All of Remy’s muscles were drawn tight. He was fighting it. Johnny knew the feeling. “You think we’ll have a chance?”

Remy gave Johnny a heated look. “Ah really think we do.” Before Johnny had a chance to question the heaviness of this statement, or the intensity in his eyes, Remy abruptly released all his energy, directing it towards the void.

The beam of purple heat and energy blasted the void. The jelly-like cluster spasmed and spread. Remy clenched Johnny’s fingers between his own. He gritted his teeth and glared at the void. His beam of heat and energy narrowed, becoming more focused. The starry blob stretched into weird shapes, trying to fight the beam, but Remy’s onslaught was relentless.

The void began to shrink.

Remy grinned.

Johnny could tell it was hurting him. Even though Remy was grinning, even though the beam was strong and steady and the hole in space-time was shrinking, he could feel Remy fraying around the edges. He realized why he was there: it was the physical contact that grounded Remy. He was like a lightning rod for the world’s most attractive electrical storm.

“It’s all right,” Johnny murmured, knowing he wouldn’t be heard over the roar of the beam and the void; he stepped closer until his cheek rested lightly on Remy’s shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

New strength flowed through Remy. The beam grew even more focused, more intense. The void bubbled wildly, faster and faster, as though it was angry. The void was no match for Remy’s onslaught, though— the void shrank until it disappeared.

“You did it!” Bishop shouted. “Gambit! Stop!”

Johnny lifted his head. He couldn’t hear anything over the beam, but he saw the time-travel guy making abortive gestures with his hands and shouting at them.

“Remy?” Johnny let go of Remy’s hand. The grin on Remy’s face transformed into horror and panic. “Easy there, Hot Stuff.” With a little smile, Johnny stepped through the beam and wrapped his arms around Remy’s upper back. “Time to tone down the fireworks.” Why was he hugging Remy? Easy. This might be his last chance to do it.

He drew the heat and energy into himself and burned it out into the atmosphere as he went. The air around them went bone-dry. The dead grass underfoot burned down to nothing.

Remy slumped against him, disoriented. “…Di’ we win?”

 “Yeah.” Johnny held on a moment longer, just because he could. He told himself it was because Remy was swaying on his feet; Remy was weak, he needed help. But even after Remy’s strength renewed and his arms came up around Johnny’s shoulders, Johnny didn’t let go. His eyes were closed. Remy smelled like burnt wires and spicy cologne.

“Good work.” Reed’s voice served as a rude awakening. Johnny gradually released Remy, making a show of making sure he was stable. Reed was standing at the edge of the circle of scorched earth. He held out the collar towards Johnny.

Johnny grabbed the collar, closed it around Remy’s neck, and pressed the ‘on’ button. The moment the collar was activated, Johnny stepped back, expression shuttered, and turned away.

“We need to destroy that portal,” Bishop interrupted.

“Is your artillery hardy enough to do that?”

Bishop held up a demonstrative gun for Reed to examine. “What do you think.” Bishop sent several shots at the archway until it collapsed in a smoking heap.

“…I think that was a yes,” Reed said.

“Can we go home now?” Johnny asked.

“Yes.” Reed did wonder why Johnny was so stony-faced and Gambit looked so downtrodden, but he had other things to worry about. Like whether Hank had made any progress on that cure.

* * *

“What excellent timing!” Hank remarked excitedly upon Reed’s return.

“You found something?”

“I have isolated the isotope in the gamma quadrant required to sufficiently manipulate the afflicted DNA. The test results are very promising!”

“So we have a cure?”

“The final test needs to be on Logan, given his near-instantaneous healing abilities. We will need to sedate him and remove his collar…”

With Rogue’s help, they were able to do just that. “Seeya when I wake up,” was the last thing he said. Hank removed the hypodermic needle; Reed removed Logan’s collar. Hank produced a second syringe from his pocket and injected the bubbling green formula into Logan’s arm. Already, he was starting to wake up.

“Wait outside the cage, Rogue,” Hank instructed. Rogue complied.

As soon as the formula was injected, Hank and Reed hastily exited the cage. An elastic arm lashed out at them, claws out, and just barely missed them as the door hissed shut. “Oh, my word!” Hank exclaimed.

Reed shut off the communication system so they couldn’t hear Logan’s screams.

Rogue stood just outside the cage, pale. “Wh-what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will,” Hank assured.

Logan’s skin bubbled. Logan writhed and screamed, claws out.

“How long is this gonna take?”

“This could take hours,” Hank apologized, “But hopefully, with Logan’s accelerated facilities, it will take effect faster.”

Logan slammed himself against the front of the cage.

Rogue backed against the opposite wall, pale. “Ah hope it doesn’ take that long.”

* * *

Within half an hour, Logan was completely back to normal.

Hank was encouraged by these results.

He and Reed agreed to administer the cure to the other three afflicted X-Men.

They all reacted just as badly.

Hank and Reed debated what to do with the collars. Hank seemed certain that they would not need them on the four afflicted X-Men; he was certain that his cure would work. Logan had shown no signs of regression since returning to his normal form.

Reed thought they ought to keep the collars as a precaution.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Susan said coldly.

Hank and Reed lifted their heads. Susan was standing in the doorway, eyes blazing with cold fury. She stepped forward. “You _saw_ what that collar did to Johnny! And you want to _keep_ them?!”

“Only as a precaution, Susan..!”

“In case _what?”_ she challenged, fists clenched. “In case _we_ get out of control?”

“Those collars can still be reverse-engineered,” Reed argued weakly.

Susan’s arm muscles clenched. She caught the subtle implication in his voice. “Those aren’t the only collars?”

“No…”

“ _Tell_ me you destroyed the blueprints.”

“Sue, we might need these in the future, in case one of us is out of control.”

Susan suppressed a scream. “Then why not have just one?”

“What if it’s more than one of us?” Reed countered.

Susan had no answer for this. Her mind had become a blizzard. “You’re not going to destroy them,” she accused coldly.

“No, Susan. We’re not.”

Susan turned on her heel. “We’re leaving.”

“...Pardon?” Hank inquired.

“Your X-Men are cured. You don’t need us here anymore. We’re leaving.” She left without another word.

She found Johnny and Ben in their allotted quarters and told them to pack up.

“We’re leaving?” Ben asked, surprised.

“They’re cured.” Susan’s voice sent chills down Johnny’s spine.

“Uh. Sis?”

She whirled around to face him.

“-Nevermind.” She was being downright _scary._

So, both wondering where Reed was, and neither wanting to ask, Ben and Johnny packed up their things and got ready to go.

Ben only voiced concern when they were all on the Fantastic Four aircraft and Reed still hadn’t joined them. “Uh. We missin’ someone?”

“He’ll show up.” Susan took the controls.

Ben winced. Musta been a big one.

“Buckle up.”

Yep. Definitely a big one.

He and Johnny strapped their seatbelts.

Susan’s cold fury guided them home.

* * *

They were greeted by a media storm. Reporters kept gathering in front of their door. Every station had something to say about the Fantastic Four and their dubious intentions, bullshit here about recruiting and warping other heroes to join their team, bullshit there about how they tried to destroy the universe. Not a word about how they’d actually _stopped_ the destruction of the universe. And somehow, speculation had sprung up that they were allied with Sinister and Apocalypse.

Susan stalked about their residence, a veritable ice queen, her sentences short, her temper shorter. The media did anything but help.

Reed was nowhere to be seen; presumably he was still at Xavier Institute.

Johnny moped about, unusually quiet and sober. He barely cracked a smile whenever Ben cracked a joke about the dunderheads in the media.

Ben was his usual bitter self, but that comes with the territory of being a giant rock guy. He figured the storm would blow over eventually. It always did. The media would find something else stupid to be fixated on, Reed would come back, he and Susan would patch things up, and everything would be back to normal.

Except when Reed came back, he wasn’t exactly in a reconciliatory mood. “You couldn’t have stayed until we were sure they were better? What if Kurt had needed you?”

“You said the cure worked fine.”

“It did! But there was still a chance it could have-!”

“There was still a chance it could have _not_ worked so fine?”

Reed sighed. “There’s a slight chance they may have retained some of their cosmic radiation- induced powers. We need to perform further testing to see whether or not they did.”

“And did they?”

“Not as far as we can tell, but-!”

“But they don’t need us anymore.”

“Susan-!”

“Your _team_ needs you. Or have you forgotten that?”

“Hey kid.” Ben nudged Johnny. “Wanna play some video games or somethin’?”

“Not really.” Johnny stared listlessly into the distance.

“Foosball? Air hockey?”

Johnny shrugged. The argument went on.

“Well, you can sit here an’ mope if ya want to. But I’m gonna go have some fun.” Ben stood and left Johnny there to stare off into space. He didn’t know what the kid’s deal was.

Going outside was a mistake. He was instantly bombarded by reporters. He ignored them all and pushed his way through the crowd, staring straight ahead. They chased after him for a few blocks, but eventually they got bored with the silent treatment.

He got a few fearful looks from passers-by, and was given a wide berth wherever he walked, but that was no different than usual. People tended to avoid the giant rock guy.

“One coffee,” he ordered. “Black.”

He sipped his coffee in the corner and pulled out his phone. Voice command was a wonderful thing. Glass screens were _not._

“Gambit.” The phone dialed. He was only sorta surprised when Gambit picked up. “It’s all doom and gloom back home. You up for a game of cards?”

A few hours later, he and Gambit were happily chugging down beers and cleaning out all the local thugs. It was nice bein’ around someone who knew how to crack jokes and _relax._

“So how’ve things been at the Institute?” Ben asked as they counted their winnings.

Gambit shrugged a shoulder. “Everythin’s back tu normal. Got no one locked up in de basement. Everyone’s got deir powers back.” He glanced up at Ben. “Things not so great at home?”

Ben grunted. “The Mister and the Missus keep fighting. Don’t know what Johnny’s problem is.”

“’e seems upset?” Gambit asked carefully, poker face in place. He studiously shuffled his cards.

“ _Somethin’s_ off about ‘im.”

“Is dat so.”

The pieces were starting to fall into place. Gambit’s poker face was a little too intentional. And Johnny had been upset ever since… “Don’t suppose you’d want to cheer him up?”

Gambit compressed his cards into a deck, keeping his expression neutral. “Only if he wants tu see me.” He casually pocketed the cards.

Ben rolled his eyes. “He does. He’s just too dumb to admit it.”

* * *

Remy knocked on the door to Johnny’s bedroom.

Something thumped on the floor. Footsteps approached the door. The knob twisted. The door slowly opened to reveal a faded-looking Johnny, completely devoid of his usual exuberance. He showed no sign of recognition, but then, he was staring at Remy’s mid-section, and Remy was wearing a patterned sweater today which Johnny had never seen before.

“Bonjour,” Remy greeted. Johnny visibly perked up at the sound of his voice. Remy smiled. “Ah have somethin’ a’ yours.” He reached into his pocket.

Johnny fought with his mouth to form words. He kept mouthing the letter ‘w’.

Remy held out the card, Spongebob-side facing Johnny. The card was burned in the upper-right-hand corner, the edges curled and brown. Before Johnny could react, he flipped it around to show him the two of hearts.

Johnny stared like he’d been struck by lightning. Instead of reaching out to take the card, like Remy expected, Johnny reached a shaky hand into his own pocket and produced a familiar-looking card. Johnny turned the card around. It was the two of hearts.

Remy’s eyes widened, then softened. “Ya kept tha’?”

Johnny’s cheeks burned red. “It was cool okay!” He hastily shoved the card back into his pocket. His was crumpled and very worn, like Johnny had been carrying it around with him.

Remy lowered his card. “Did ya wan’ it back?” he offered.

“Nah.” Johnny’s face burned brighter. “You can keep it.”

Remy pocketed his card and took a step closer. “Remembah how Ah said Ah wanted tu show you somethin’ when Ah got mah powers back?”

Johnny backed away. The heat in the room rose a few degrees. “Y-yeah?” Johnny stumbled over something behind him and backed up faster.

Remy followed until Johnny was backed against a wall. Johnny fought not to let his head or shoulders touch the wall. Heat waves were visible above his head. He was starting to glow.

Remy reached out a partially-gloved hand and cupped Johnny’s face.

Johnny flinched and darted away, off to the side. “What is the _matter_ with you, man? Do you have a death wish?!”

“Johnny,” Remy began, but Johnny was blocking himself off again, backing himself into a corner.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!”

Remy sighed. He held up his palms for Johnny’s inspection. “Look.”

Johnny’s eyes hesitantly darted to take in Remy’s completely unharmed hands. He frowned in surprised confusion. “But--!” He didn’t get it. “Okay so that time you got lucky.”

“Ah get lucky all de time,” Remy purred, stepping closer. “But luck had nothin’ tu do wit’ dis.” He reached out to cup Johnny’s face again.

Johnny flinched, face burning hot. Remy’s hands stayed put. Where Remy was touching, Johnny’s heat seemed to cancel out. Johnny opened his eyes, confused. “What…?”

Remy’s face loomed very close. “Ah told ya.” His thumb brushed against Johnny’s cheek. “Our powahs are compatible.” He leaned closer. Against Johnny’s lips, he murmured, “Ya can’t hurt me.”

“How are you doing that?!” Johnny was breathing very fast, every tiny exhale warming Remy’s mouth, causing a slight tickle.

“Ah tol’ ya.” Remy traced the outline of Johnny’s lips with his own. “Ah can control energy.” Every time Remy’s lips moved, they brushed against Johnny’s. “Fire is a _form_ of energy.”

Johnny’s mouth opened and he inhaled, eyes half-closed. “You can touch me,” he whispered. His lips accidentally trapped Remy’s bottom lip between his own when he voiced the ‘m’ in ‘me.’ Breathlessly, not sure what he was doing, he released Remy’s lip and stared at it. His pupils widened.

“Yes,” Remy confirmed, kissing lightly him between words. “Ah can.” He waited, lips parted, just touching Johnny’s lips, poised to kiss him again.

Johnny tilted his head and pressed their mouths together tentatively, heart pounding. Remy gently kissed back. Their mouths were their only point of contact. Johnny had never kissed anyone like this before. It had always been a rush, passionate and sloppy, a promise of other things to follow in the very near future, with no substance behind it beyond that night. But the gentle, careful way Remy kissed him back, the light contact of Remy’s hands circling his upper arms, the slow, easy way their mouths moved together was overwhelming in a whole new way.

With a desperate little noise in the back of his throat, Johnny wound his arms around Remy’s waist, pulling him closer until their chests were flush together. He kissed Remy harder. Remy’s hands slid from Johnny’s arms to encompass his upper back. He met each increase in pressure, kissing Johnny with increasing fervor. Johnny opened his mouth, his tongue begging at the seam of Remy’s lips.

Remy gladly opened his mouth and caressed Johnny’s tongue with his own. His breath stuttered when Johnny released a muffled moan as his tongue plunged deep into Remy’s mouth and he pulled Remy yet closer. Remy let loose a quiet moan of his own. Johnny whimpered into his mouth; his hands ran restlessly up and down Remy’s back, tugging at the sweater.

They both abruptly stopped when they smelled smoke.

Johnny stared off into space with wide eyes, breaths coming short and fast.

“Ah think ya singed mah fav’rite sweater,” Remy joked.

“I’m sorry!” Johnny said stiffly, panicked.

“Hey, now. No harm done.” Remy pulled the sweater up, over his washboard abs, past magnificent pecs and broad shoulders, and discarded it carelessly on the floor. “It’s not actually mah fav’rite,” Remy purred, pulling Johnny against him once more.

Johnny gaped at him.

“Are your clothes flame-proof?” Remy asked in a low voice near Johnny’s ear.

“No,” Johnny said in a small voice.

“Den Ah guess we’d bettah take dem off.”

Johnny’s breath caught. Remy drew his warm hands up, under the hem of Johnny’s t-shirt, but he paused when the shirt was rucked halfway up his stomach. “Unless ya don’ want to?”

“Holy shit _do_ I!” Johnny grabbed his own t-shirt and flung it across the room. He pulled Remy down by the back of his neck and kissed him hungrily. Remy chuckled against his mouth and kissed back. He reached for the waistband to Johnny’s pants and ran his hands slowly just under the top of Johnny’s boxer-briefs.

With an impatient sound, Johnny stripped out of these as well. He stood there in his underwear, fumbling with Remy’s belt. “- _Ah’ll_ take care ‘a those, mon ami.” He brought his hand down to cup Johnny’s backside.

Johnny’s eyes widened and he gasped, face going red.

With a smirk, Remy picked Johnny up by the ass and carried him to the bed. Johnny clung onto Remy with his arms and legs until his back hit the mattress. Remy crawled over him and started kissing him once more. There were a few inches of heated space between their bodies that badly needed to be filled. Remy slowly settled down on top of Johnny. Their kiss deepened. Remy slowly rotated his pelvis back and forth, drinking in every gasp and whimper, every stuttered breath. Johnny sucked Remy’s tongue into his mouth and traced obscene circles on its underside. Remy reached down to unfasten his pants.

The sound of a door clicking shut caused them both to pause for the briefest moment. The rectangle of light from the hallway had disappeared from the wall. Before Johnny could register that someone had shut his bedroom door and possibly seen them, before his bewilderment could calcify into panic, Remy gently turned Johnny’s face towards him, caught his mouth again, and kissed him. Johnny didn’t react at first, but the sound of a zipper being pulled down prompted an absolutely obscene sound from Johnny that Remy absolutely wanted to hear again.

* * *

Ben had been about to ask Gambit if he wanted hot cocoa or something when he’d seen something he didn’t ever wanna see again. He was gonna need an entire gallon of bleach straight to the eyeballs. And maybe a gallon of whiskey.

Gambit was definitely not interested in hot cocoa.

Ben wandered into the kitchen, feeling distinctly violated. There are some things about his best friends that he really never, ever wanted to know.

Susan was sitting alone in the kitchen with a lukewarm cup of tea. Her light blue bath robe was drawn tightly around her frame. She was slumped over, every muscle drawn tight, staring at the crossword in front of her like it had personally offended her.

Ben looked around. “Where’s Reed?”

“Don’t know,” she said stiffly.

“Mm,” Ben grunted. “How long ago did he leave?”

Susan shrugged. Her jaw clenched.

Ben noted the lack of steam coming up from her tea. “You want me tuh warm that up fer ya?”

“No.” Susan’s voice was sharp.

“Great.” Ben didn’t know what to do now. He tapped his large rocky fingers against the tabletop.

Susan took a sip of her lukewarm tea. Her tight-lipped expression suggested that she was definitely not enjoying her tea. Yet, she drank another sip anyway, just to spite it.

Ben examined the crossword puzzle, at a loss for what to say or do. “…Seven down is ‘cyan’.”

Susan gripped her pencil tighter and looked at the puzzle with surprise. She filled the word in. Her face clouded over. She resumed sullenly staring off into space.

Ben heard a noise he’d never heard Johnny make before, and had no desire to ever hear from him again. He cursed the lack of soundproofing on that bedroom door.

Intent on distracting himself, Ben reached over and turned on the radio. All the stations were fuzzy. He settled on a news station which was reporting on the traffic and weather every ten minutes, interspersed with cheery holiday commercials.

It was gonna be a long night.

* * *

Reed stomped out into the snow, stepping high over the unshoveled walkway. He just didn’t understand how his wife couldn’t see reason! He thought he’d made it perfectly clear why it was logical to keep the collars. They weren’t even his to begin with; they belonged to Professor X and his X-Men! He’d just give Susan some time to calm down. Maybe she’d come to her senses.

A crunch caught his attention off to the right. He turned, scanning the area. It was difficult to see, even with the soft purply-orange glow of the city reflecting off the overcast night sky, casting an even dimmer glow on the knee-deep snow, but he thought he saw motion between the tangle of gray twigs at the edge of their property.

He thought, maybe it was a squirrel. A squirrel… with green hair. He slowly turned, ready to resume his path, when something rustled in the bushes again. His heart jumped with fear.

“Show yourself!” he ordered.

The bushes stilled.

The hairs on the back of Reed’s neck stood on-end. He backed slowly towards the gate, watching the bush, ready to attack if necessary. He made it safely to the edge of their property and took one step onto the sidewalk. Suddenly he was seized from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was the final chapter, but I just had so many ideas and so many more things I wanted to do with these characters, I thought, why not! And thus this installment became three chapters longer, and I am contemplating a sequel.
> 
> Much love goes out to everyone who is reading this, and a little extra love to everyone who has left kudos or comments or bookmarked it! Y'all brighten my day so much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [evil laughter]

Gambit strolled leisurely into Xavier Institute, a smirk upon his lips. He nodded a silent, somewhat flirtatious greeting at everyone he passed. He made his way to the medical wing. He had an appointment with a certain blue furball. But to his surprise, Hank was not there.

Out in the hallway, he spotted a familiar figure.

“Excuse me,” he said to the young-and-gullible Kitty Pryde, “Ah need tuh talk to Hank. ‘ave ya seen ‘im?”

She pointed and gave his location. “Is everything all right?” she asked with large brown-eyed concern.

“Everythin’ is fine, petit. Ah jus’ need tuh ask him some questions.” He stepped past Kitty and continued down the hallway.

A few yards later, he was accosted by Jubilee. “You’re back!” she exclaimed with surprise. “How’d it go with Johnny? Did you see him?”

Gambit smirked devilishly. “You were right, chère. All ‘e needed was a little push.”

Jubilee squealed and pumped her hands. “I _knew_ it!” She started rambling about how he used to drive her crazy with his obvious moping and pining, and how she knew they were into each other, but Gambit seemed distracted.

“Excuse me, chère. Ah gotta talk tuh Hank.”

“Okay.” Jubilee had switched to walking backwards. “–Hey, does that mean you’re _dating_ now?”

“If ya want tuh think about it tha’ way,” Gambit said, stepping around her. Hank should be just behind this door.

Jubilee made another excited noise and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Ohmygosh! That is the _best_ news!” She gasped. “Does Kitty know?!”

“Non, chère.” Gambit poised his fist to knock on the door. He glanced at Jubilee with thinly veiled annoyance.

Jubilee, however, was oblivious to his annoyance. She remained glowing with enthusiasm. “Ohmygosh, I have _got_ to tell Kitty!”

She darted off and left Gambit in blessed silence.

Gambit wrapped on the door three times.

“Come in,” came Hank’s unassuming voice from inside.

He entered.

“Ah, Gambit. I trust everything is well?”

“Actually, non.” He put a hand to his forehead and feigned weary distress. “Ah don’ think de cure cancelled out all mah cosmic powers. Ah’ve been getting de _worst_ headaches—Do you still have de collars?”

Hank blinked in surprise and shifted forward in concern. “Yes, Gambit, but they are only to be used for emergencies. Would you like some pain medication?”

“Ah took some,” he lied. “Ah just… Ah’m worried, Hank. Can Ah at least see where de collars are, in case de worst happens?”

Hank regarded him sympathetically. “Of course.”

This was all too easy.

Hank led her down several hallways and to a vault. “Should you ever need them, they are in here.” He indicated the vault.

Gambit’s hand flew to his forehead again. He appeared wan; his eyelids fluttered. He swayed on his feet. “Ah… Ah need tuh see them. How do Ah know what’s in dere? What if it’s the wrong vault?”

“I assure you, this is the right vault. The Professor knows the combination. –Are you sure you’re all right, Gambit? You look pale. Perhaps you had better lie down.”

“Ah’ll be all right, Hank, but… Is dere any way you can show me da collars? Jus’ to be sure?”

Hank’s gaze skittered uncertainly to the side. “…All right.” He shielded the number pad from view as he typed in the combination. The door popped ajar. Hank pulled it open.

Sure enough, the four collars lay inside. There were several identical collars, further back, in a separate pile, along with various other interesting paraphernalia, including vials, formulas, and spreadsheets. Gambit took a long, calculating survey of what was inside.

Hank closed the door. “You see? They’re all there.” He closed and locked the door. “I urge you to rest. You’re not yourself.”

Gambit’s face became impassive. “Ah’ll be all right,” he reassured Hank again. “Thanks, Doc.” His usual swagger was tinged with fatigue as he walked back down the hallway. His shoulders eased with relief when Hank finally stopped watching him and turned to walk back from whence he came.

He ran across no one on his stroll to the control room, and as it turned out, rewinding the footage and zooming in on the keypad was child’s play. A little re-wiring, leaving no fingerprints thanks to his gloves, and he was in business. The control room showed no signs of intrusion. Gambit exited the room and casually strolled out into the empty hallway.

He rounded a corner.

“Gambit,” Scott greeted with a nod of his head.

“Cyke,” Gambit greeted, nodding back. He strolled on, unbothered. Scott didn’t give him a second look.

Gambit arrived at the safe and punched in the numbers. The door hissed open. He reached in and stole the four collars, shoving them into the inner pockets of his trench coat. He paused, contemplating the sheets of paper scattered about the floor. Numbers, charts, and formulas sprawled meaninglessly across the pages; none of them made much sense to him. He grabbed a handful of them. He had no idea what they were, but they looked important. Could be useful later. He straightened, smoothed his jacket over, and closed the safe.

He greeted Storm with a casual nod as he passed through the lower level. Storm wanted to talk about the weather; she was concerned about Gambit going back out. How sweet. “Ah’ll be fine, chère,” Gambit insisted nonchalantly. “Ain’t like Ah nevah seen snow before.”

“But Gambit, you are always complaining about how difficult it is to drive in the snow.” Storm frowned with concern.

Gambit smirked, eyes smoldering. “Maybe Ah have somethin’ worth drivin’ to. Or some _one_ ,” he drawled meaningfully.

Storm’s expression softened. “You are going to see Johnny?”

Gambit nodded.

Storm laid a hand on his shoulder. “I am glad you sorted things out.”

Gambit smiled self-deprecatingly. “’e was stubborn, but Ah talked ‘im out of it. Or _into_ it, if ya know what Ah mean.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Storm shook her head fondly. She squeezed his shoulder and released him. “Go, before the storm worsens.”

“Mah Storm will _nevah_ worsen,” Gambit said, exuding infatuation with every pore.

It worked. He made it outside without any further disturbance.

Lorna jumped when Gambit casually opened the door and slid into the passenger’s seat of her car. He pulled open one side of his trench coat, showing off the collars. “Too easy.”

Lorna gaped. “You got them?”

Gambit closed his coat. “You doubted me?” he asked, one eyebrow arched.

“No, I just—that was fast.”

“And you have Quicksilver for a brother.” Gambit flashed her a smile. “I’m flattered.”

Lorna gripped the steering wheel. “Where to now?”

“The Fantastic Four headquarters.”

* * *

Susan was still hunched over her crossword puzzle. Every so often, Ben would speak up and point out the answer to a word. Susan would fill it in.

After the first ten minutes of obscene sounds that Ben could not block out with the radio, the two idiots in the bedroom had become fortunately quiet. Susan had shown no reaction whatsoever. Ben didn’t know how Susan managed to escape hearing that, but however she’d done that, he envied her.

He was grateful when the front door swung open, letting in a gust of freezing wind. Reed stomped inside, rubbing his hands together.

“What’d you do, take a walk?” Ben asked with a raised brow ridge.

“To a local coffee shop,” Reed explained calmly. “I needed to cool down.”

Susan’s back straightened. She regarded him curiously. It wasn’t like Reed to admit he was wrong. “So you’ll consider destroying them after all?” Her hope was cautious.

“I’ll more than consider it. I’m going to the Institute right now to have a talk with the Professor about it.”

Susan stood, heart aflutter. “You will?”

“You have my word,” Reed vowed. He strode into the kitchen. “Mind if I warm up first?” He brushed past Susan and grabbed a mug from the dish drainer.

Susan watched him with definite interest. “No, of course not. –You’re really going to the Institute now?”

“Yes,” Reed answered shortly, setting the microwave to warm the water in his mug. “Why wait? Susan, I know you’ve been agonizing about this. The sooner we solve this, the better for both of us.”

Ben raised his rocky brow ridge. “You see an old girlfriend in that coffee shop or somethin’?”

“No. Why?” Reed frowned in consternation.

Ben didn’t say ‘because you’re never this nice to your wife.’ He felt bad for even _thinkin’_ it. “’Cause your mood is a lot different than when you left.”

Reed sighed. “I was angry, Ben. I was being selfish. I was so frustrated that Susan didn’t see my point of view, I didn’t realize I hadn’t been listening to hers.” The microwave beeped. Reed removed his mug, tore open a packet of hot chocolate, dumped it in, and stirred. “Can you ever forgive me, Susan?” Reed asked, watching his cocoa swirl into the water.

Susan’s entire demeanor softened. “Reed…”

Reed held up a hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just consider it.” He tossed his spoon into the sink and sipped his hot cocoa.

Ben was so uncomfortable, he had to leave the room. It was great that Sue and Reed were working out their problems, but he didn’t want to be around to witness whatever warm gushy thing they were about to do.

Of course, the moment he stepped out of the kitchen, he was accosted with more warm gushy things he didn’t want to witness. Johnny and Gambit were standing near the door, completely oblivious to everyone else. Johnny couldn’t seem to stop touching the front of Gambit’s coat, and Gambit was giving Johnny the most adoring bedroom eyes Ben had ever seen. They were having a disgustingly cute fight about whether Gambit couldn’t stay.

“Ah’ve got tu go back tu de Institute, Johnny.”

“You could stay a few more minutes, couldn’t you? They’re not gonna mind if you stay for a few more minutes. Do you want some hot cocoa? We have hot cocoa…”

Gambit smiled at Johnny with warmth that Ben could feel from across the friggin’ room. “Dey’ll be missin’ me, Johnny.”

Johnny pulled Gambit closer by the lapels of his jacket, eyes pleading, no doubt thinking of another insipid thing to say.

“Not like it’s the first time you’ve stayed somewhere overnight,” Ben grunted.

Both of them jumped like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Johnny turned scarlet. “I wasn’t—“

“Ah’m not—“

Ben gave them a look. “Seriously. You can stay the night.”

“I agree,” Reed said seriously from the doorway. “This storm is only going to get worse. I plan on staying the night at the Institute, myself.”

“You could travel together,” suggested Susan.

Reed gave Gambit a wary look, then faced Susan. “I’ll be fine. They know I’m coming. But Ben is right, Gambit frequently doesn’t return to the Institute until after dawn. I think he should stay here.”

“Shouldn’t you stay, too?”

Reed shook his head. “I have pressing needs to be at the Institute. I promised you.”

“You can fulfill your promise tomorrow…”

“No.” Reed curled a finger under Susan’s chin. “I need to set things right.”

Johnny tangled his fingers in Gambit’s coat. “Stay?” He gave Gambit big blue puppydog eyes.

Gambit’s expression softened. “O’ course Ah’ll stay.” He drew Johnny into a hug.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Reed promised Susan, moving towards the door. “Excuse me,” he said with some amusement, squeezing past the embracing couple. They shifted to the side and settled further into their hug.

The door clicked shut behind him.

“You’re sleeping on the couch,” Ben gruffed.

“Mmhmm,” Gambit hummed into Johnny’s hair.

“And _you’re_ sleeping in your bedroom,” Ben lectured Johnny like Johnny was actually listening.

“Mm,” Johnny hummed noncommittally into Gambit’s shoulder.

Ben sighed.

* * *

Scott sat in the dark control room, face illuminated by green light from the patchwork of monitors in front of him. A silent alarm had been tripped. “That’s odd.” He checked the security feed for that area. Nothing was amiss, just a blank hallway. His eyes narrowed behind his ruby-quartz-lensed glasses.

He turned off the silent alarm.

“Wonder why it did that…” He wheeled over to the computer and typed something in. He brought up the codes for the security system. Nothing seemed amiss there. Everything was in working order. No glitch in sight.

Scott frowned. Must’ve been a fluke.

He turned his attention back to the patchwork of security feeds.

That was odd.

In the lower right-hand corner, the time had just flickered.

He peered closer. The time displayed was about fifteen minutes ago. The seconds kept ticking up, and when they reached 59, the time flickered, and it re-set itself to that same time.

Someone had tampered with the security feed!

A troubling thought occurred to him: he’d seen Gambit in this hallway about fifteen minutes ago. He’d nodded hello and kept walking, thought nothing of it. What if Gambit had—?

But why would Gambit tamper with the security feed?

Unless… “Professor.”

_Yes, Scott?_

“I need you to check vault seven. There’s been a security breach. I think something may have been stolen.”

He felt the Professor’s concern. _That’s impossible! Only Hank and I know the combination to that lock!_

“Even so, Professor, I’ve just checked the security system, and someone has tampered with the feed. I saw Gambit shortly after the time the feed was tampered with.”

 _Gambit?_ He felt the Professor’s sharp surprise, worry, and skepticism. _We’d better take a look._

He met the Professor in front of the vault.

The Professor nodded to Scott in greeting and punched in the code. The door swung open. “Oh my!”

Cold worry gripped Scott’s gut. “The collars!” He whirled around to face the Professor. “It was Gambit!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. It could be a coincidence that you saw Gambit at the same time this vault was robbed.”

“Who else would want those?! Who else needed the collar to function?”

“Logan was just as desperate. And he has been totally cured! There are no lingering effects that we have noticed since Hank administered the serum.”

“Yes, but Logan wasn’t a master thief! Logan hasn’t _betrayed us before!”_

“Gambit has come a long way,” the Professor cautioned. “He has nearly sacrificed his life for us since.”

“Maybe he’s done with that! Maybe he doesn’t want to be part of the X-Men anymore! No one has seen him since he ran off, and the collars are missing! Professor, this is too much to be a coincidence!”

“I will contact him.” The Professor punched several buttons on his armrest. A screen popped up, coupled with the generic sound of a phone ringing.

“Professor?” Gambit answered.

“Gambit. Where are you?”

Gambit hesitated. “Ah’m at de residence a’ de Fantastic Four. Ah, uh… plan on stayin’ de night, wha’ with de storm an’ all.”

Scott’s unease spiked.

“Professor?” Gambit asked with polite confusion. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

“We’ve had a minor glitch with the security system.”

“Oh.” Gambit went quiet. He seemed to be murmuring something with the mouth piece pulled away from his face.

Scott practically screamed his suspicion at the Professor- mentally, of course- but it was like screaming at a brick wall. No reaction registered on the Professor’s face. “We thought perhaps you would be able to shed some light on the situation,” the Professor went on calmly.

Gambit chuckled. “Sheddin’ light is mah specialty. Howsabout Ah see wha’ Ah can do fo’ you tomorrow, when de storm’s died down?”

“That would be appreciated. Thank you, Gambit.”

The Professor ended the transmission.

“He denied nothing,” Scott pointed out.

“But he also admitted nothing,” the Professor countered.

Scott gave him a look. “He’s a thief and a liar, Professor! He doesn’t want to get caught!”

“I know you do not trust Gambit, but we still need to give him the benefit of the doubt. He may be an innocent victim of a bigger web of coincidences we have yet to unveil.”

“Or,” Scott said grimly, “he could be guilty.”

* * *

“Reed,” the Professor greeted remorsefully. “I apologize for not being able to see you last night, especially after you traveled here in this snow storm…”

“You had a long day,” Reed granted, calm and understanding.

“What is it you wished to speak with me about?” the Professor seemed tense.

“The collars,” Reed answered promptly. “I… had a long talk with Susan, and we both decided they would be better off destroyed.”

The Professor frowned and gripped the armrests of his chair. He was silent for a long moment. “I’m afraid I have some troubling news,” he said at last.

Reed frowned in concern. “News?” he prompted.

“It appears the collars have been stolen.”

“Stolen!?”

“Yes… The vault in which they were kept was broken into last night. We are looking into it now.”

“This is exactly what Susan was afraid of,” Reed mourned, pinching at his forehead.

“I assure you, the culprit will be caught, and dealt with accordingly.”

“That’s not enough!” Reed insisted. He started pacing. “We need to get to the bottom of this before—Oh no.” He stopped. “They—they don’t know! I left them alone last night, and they don’t know!” He bolted out of the room.

* * *

Gambit strolled into Xavier Institute with a spring in his step, smiling wholeheartedly at everyone he came across. The morning sunlight was hitting everything just so. He hummed Disney songs all the way to his room. He sang Sinatra in the shower. He wore his favorite purple sweater with his comfiest pair of leggings. He spritzed cologne.

He had just finished eating the fluffy, buttery waffles he’d made from scratch when he received summons from the Professor, and he remembered their brief conversation from last night. It had been hard to focus on, with Johnny cuddled into his side like that, all warm and happy and affectionate—something about a glitch with the security system.

He answered the Professor’s summons, in no clear hurry, his steps light, a smile perpetually tugging at his cheeks.

“Wha’ seems tu be the problem, Professor?” he asked cheerfully.

“Sit down,” the Professor instructed, oddly serious.

Gambit sat down. He attempted a friendly smile at Scott, but was met only with an accusatory glower.

The Professor steepled his fingers. “Last night, someone tampered with the security system.”

Gambit smiled easily, spreading himself out in the chair. “Ah can fix tha’, no problem. Jus’ tell me wha’ went wrong.”

The Professor exchanged a glance with Scott. “One of our high-security vaults has been robbed. Shortly before the time of the robbery, Scott saw _you_ walking down the same hallway as the control room.”

“We _know_ it was you, LeBeau,” Scott accused.

Gambit held up his hands. “Whoa. Ah was wit’ de Fantastic Four all evenin’.”

“Can you verify that alibi?” the Professor pressed.

“Sure Ah can. Sue said dey ‘ave security cameras in every room ‘a deir house. Ah jus’ need tu call—”

“We’ll call her for you.” Scott stiffly brought up the call-screen and dialed the Fantastic Four.

Susan’s face appeared. Her eyebrows creased with concern. “Scott? Professor?”

Scott crossed his arms. “We need to take a look at your surveillance tapes from last night.”

Alarm lit her features. “Has something happened? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” the Professor soothed. “We just need to check something.”

“…All right. I’m sending you the files now.” Susan’s face disappeared and a loading bar took her place.

Gambit shifted uncomfortably. “Ah don’ know wha’ time de robbery took place, but if it’s before Ah got dere, Ah can prove Ah was with Ben…”

The loading bar finished. There was a whooshing sound as the files were transferred. “Is that all?”

“Yes, Susan. Thank you. We will contact you once we know more.” The Professor ended the call.

On the screen appeared the rooms of the Fantastic Four residence. The Professor fast-forwarded to nine p.m., shortly before the robbery had occurred.

“Ya might not wanna-” Gambit warned.

“Sh!” Scott silenced him angrily.

Gambit clamped down on his lips, cheeks heating.

“Is that…?” Scott frowned.

The Professor zoomed in on the camera in one of the bedrooms. There was a russet-haired man locked in a passionate embrace with a younger, blond-haired man who couldn’t seem to get enough of him. They kissed for a long while, as though unable to _stop_ kissing. Every time one of them tried to come up for air, the other chased his lips, their heads shifted angles, and they dove right back into kissing again. There was no audio, but the video was full-color and crystal clear. When the taller man finally lifted his head to murmur something to the blond man, it became clear that the russet-haired man was Gambit.

Scott’s cheeks had taken on a mortified tinge. “You and…?”

“Johnny. Yeah.” Gambit cupped the back of his own neck self-consciously. “Ah’d rathah ya not watch this…”

The blond haired man said something earnestly and they were kissing again. The blond man was gripping him so close, his fingertips left indentations in Gambit’s muscled back. Gambit shifted over him, running one hand down his torso.

The Professor clicked a button. The security feed went black.

Dead silence.

Gambit’s fingers twitched and drummed his leg restlessly. “So… ya believe me?”

The Professor appeared deep in thought. “You can’t have been in two places at once,” he granted. “So that means…”

“One of him wasn’t the real Gambit,” Scott finished.

“Wha’? You mean Ah’ve got an imposter?”

“Could be time travel, cloning, an alternate reality…” mused the Professor. Gambit thought all of these ideas sounded cool. “Or,” the Professor finished, “it could be the simplest solution: a shapeshifter.”

“Professor!” Scott said with alarm. “If we’ve had a shapeshifter among us, how do we know how long they’ve been here? What if last night wasn’t the first time?”

“If it is a shapeshifter,” the Professor said, fingers steepled once more, “they couldn’t possibly know everything about those they were impersonating. It was only a matter of time before they made a mistake.”

“But how are we going to catch them?” Scott challenged.

“Stay alert,” the Professor warned. “It could be any one of us.”

* * *

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Reed’s face said on the view-screen in the living room. He appeared to be in a car.

“What is it, Reed?” Susan asked, worried. She’d been pacing all morning.

Johnny reached into the bowl of Chex mix Ben was holding and crammed his mouth full, only half concerned.

“The collars have been transported to an off-site facility. I’m headed there now, but I may be gone for several days.” The screen crackled and rippled, like they had a bad connection.

Susan frowned and clenched her fists. “But you _are_ going to destroy them?”

“Susan,” Reed’s voice soothed. “I would never lie to you like that. Of course I will.”

Susan’s shoulders eased somewhat.

Johnny crunched loudly.

She gave him an exasperated look over her shoulder.

Johnny shrugged in a silent ‘What!’ and kept crunching.

“I’m going to be traveling across the country,” Reed warned, “so the service might be spotty. I might not always pick up. But I’ll call you whenever I can.”

Ben pulled the bowl a little away from Johnny. Johnny chased after it.

“Thank you,” Susan said with quiet authority.

“I love you, Susan.”

Susan blinked with surprise. “I… I love you, too.” Reed’s image disappeared. Susan mentally shook off her surprise and turned to cross her arms at the two boys on the couch. “What have I told you about eating crunchy food during a video call?”

Ben was holding the bowl high over the armrest with one hand. Johnny was leaning across him, balanced precariously, reaching for the bowl. They both froze. “Uh,” Johnny responded, “Don’t crunch too loud?”

Susan narrowed her eyes and cranked up the intimidation.

Johnny shrunk back sheepishly. “He started it!” He pointed at Ben.

“Hey! _You_ were the one eating during the call!”

“Yeah but _you_ brought the bowl in here!”

“Boys,” Susan warned. A bubble formed around the bowl of trail mix. The bubble floated across the room. Susan caught it with one hand. The bubble popped. “You know the rules.”

Johnny and Ben started muttering things at each other that were increasingly antagonistic.

Susan thought, now that the bowl was this close, it did smell rather tempting. She took a handful of the peanut-butter-and-chocolate snack mix.

Johnny and Ben’s argument escalated in volume.

“Johnny,” Susan interrupted. They stopped. “Clean your room.”

She walked away with the bowl of Chex mix.

* * *

Susan had been in the kitchen for all of ten minutes when Johnny came skidding in. “Video call from Professor X!”

Susan’s eyebrows formed a worried peak. She passed Johnny and walked into the living room. She heard Johnny triumphantly reclaim the bowl of Chex mix behind her.

“Susan,” the Professor greeted tensely. “I trust you have spoken with Reed?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know that the collars are missing, and that we are doing everything we can to get them back.”

Susan paled. “What?”

The Professor frowned deeply. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No, he—he told me the collars were at an off-site location. He said he was traveling across the country to destroy them. He—” Susan sat on the nearest chair, mind reeling.

Alarm registered on the Professor’s face. “The collars were being stored in the mansion. The vault they were kept in was robbed last night, before Reed arrived. We informed him this morning.”

Susan couldn’t make sense of it. “But… Why would he lie?” she asked numbly.

“Perhaps it wasn’t Reed.”

“What?! What are you saying?”

“We think there may be a shapeshifter in the Institute. The shapeshifter impersonated Gambit last night.”

“Yeah!” Gambit’s voice interrupted off-screen.

Johnny bolted into the living room, alert.

Gambit continued, “Dey thought dey could pin de robbery on Gambit! Jus’ because ‘e has a history as a thief!” he huffed.

“Gambit?” Johnny said, breathless.

Gambit leaned into the frame. “Johnny!” He beamed.

Johnny beamed back.

“Ya know Ah don’ steal anymore, cher,” Gambit informed Johnny, earnest. “Jus’ hearts.” His gaze simmered. “One in pahticular.”

Pink bloomed across Johnny’s cheeks. He seemed to be struggling for words.

The Professor remained gravely serious. “We were calling to apologize, and warn you. Gambit was apprehended this morning when he returned to the mansion, because we believed him to be responsible for the robbery. But upon reviewing the footage you sent, it became apparent that he had an alibi at the time of the robbery.”

Johnny’s eyes widened.

Gambit leaned back out of the frame, sheepish.

Susan remained gravely serious, as well. “Yes, Gambit was here all night.” Behind her, Johnny blushed.

“And Reed was here.” The Professor steepled his fingers.

“But—” Susan found herself doubting every conversation she’d had with Reed recently. She had no idea which Reed was the real one, or when her husband had disappeared.

“I’m just as perplexed as you are,” the Professor assured. “But we will get to the bottom of this.”

* * *

Reed Richards came to, disoriented, on a cold stone floor. The last thing he remembered was stepping out onto the snowy sidewalk and being grabbed from behind. He’d tried to fight back, but it had been too little, too late.

“Reed Richards,” greeted a dark, smooth voice. “So glad you could join us.”

Reed raised his pounding head and squinted into the darkness. His entire body was bound in a large net, pinning his limbs to his body. “Who’s ‘us’?”

“You’ll meet the others soon enough.” A large, looming silhouette stepped into a patch of moonlight, which illuminated his pale face from the side. The man’s eyes glowed red in the dark.

“I must be having a nightmare…”

“I assure you,” he said, once more shrouded in shadow, “you are quite awake.” He stepped closer and closer, stopping within arm’s reach. But Reed couldn’t move his arms.

“Where am I?” Reed demanded weakly. His head felt like it was splitting itself open.

“Right now,” the figure answered, sweeping one arm, “you are in my living room.”

The ‘living room’ consisted of a damp cobblestone floor, dusty ornate rugs, an unlit chandelier draped with cobwebs, a chipped marble staircase leading to a darkened upper floor, a huge empty fireplace, and several chairs that looked roughly as comfortable as the floor.

“Nice place.” Reed squinted at the large dark figure, trying to discern his face. “And you are..?”

“Nathaniel Essex. But you may call me ‘Sinister.’” Moonlight glinted off a needle-toothed grin.

“Sinister!” The pounding in Reed’s head increased tenfold. “Why have you taken me here?”

“Under the circumstances, shouldn’t _I_ be the one giving an interrogation?” Sinister mused.

“You’d never get anything out of me.”

“Oh but I will.” Sinister swooped closer, but abruptly pulled short, cupping one hand to his side. He winced.

“Are you injured?” Reed wondered, curiosity piqued.

“A minor setback,” Sinister dismissed, sounding as though he was in pain.

“I thought you healed instantaneously.”

“I _did_. _”_

“Then how come you’re not healed? Were you injured recently?” Reed raised his head and squinted harder into the darkness, hackles raised. If something could hurt Sinister…

“No.” Sinister’s anger roiled like a gathering thundercloud. “Apocalypse stole it from me.”

“Stole what?”

“My healing abilities!” Sinister hissed.

Reed frowned. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could see a large chunk of Sinister’s right side was missing. “If you’ve been injured that seriously, why are you not dead?”

“Because he took everything from me!” Sinister shouted. “Everything… but my immortality.” He bent over, holding his side, voice quiet, clearly in a great deal of pain. “And _you’re_ going to help me get it back.”

“Hold on. I’m not helping you. Why would I? You nearly killed my brother-in-law! And how did he steal your powers from you?”

“He _absorbs_ them,” Sinister explained impatiently. “And if you don’t help me, _I_ will take everything from _you._ ”

“You can’t do that. You can barely stand.”

“Perhaps not now,” Sinister granted. “But I have these.” He lifted a familiar doughnut-shaped object into the moonlight.

“No.” Reed paled.

Sinister lowered the collar. “We don’t need to get anyone else involved,” he crooned, his smoothness tarnished by pain. “But if you refuse to cooperate, I am certainly not above stripping you and your team of your powers, just as Apocalypse stripped me. Perhaps then you would feel _sympathy,_ ” he spat.

“I will _never_ feel sympathy for the likes of you.”

“Hatred can also be a powerful motivator.”

Reed ground his jaw. The stress was pushing at the inside of his skull, a sharp corkscrew in his brain trying to wrench his skull apart. “They’ll notice I’m gone. They’ll come after me.”

“I’m counting on it.” Sinister brandished the collar.

Reed clenched his fists, bound as they were. He hated everything about this situation. His mind raced to find an alternative where he didn’t endanger his team. “What is it you want me to do?”

* * *

“Bishop,” greeted the blue-lipped behemoth known as Apocalypse. “Whatever brings you to my door?” He smiled as though he already knew.

“As much as this leaves a sour taste in my mouth,” Bishop replied, hand hovering over the holster at his hip, “I’ve come to inform you that the problem from earlier is _not_ resolved.”

“I know.”

Bishop scanned that repulsive face. “You know,” he repeated levelly. “What do you know.”

“You tell me. _You’re_ the one who came all this way.”

Bishop squared his jaw. He really hated this man. “Sinister is going to re-open the portal. You _know_ what that _means._ ”

Apocalypse waited patiently, unconcerned. “Yes.”

“Then you _know_ he must be _stopped!_ ”

“Yes,” Apocalypse repeated, “I know.”

“And you’re doing _nothing._ ”

Apocalypse smiled- a dreadful expression. “Sinister has betrayed me, and believes I have betrayed _him._ He needs to learn a lesson.”

“So you’re going to just _let_ him open that portal and unleash havoc on this dimension, is that what I’m hearing you say?” He gripped the concealed weapon at his hip.

“Oh, I doubt he’ll get that far.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I won’t let him.”

“And you’re going to do that _how_ , exactly?”

Apocalypse narrowed his eyes. “Why did you seek me out? To tell me information I already know? Or is this an offer of _friendship?”_

“You know _damn_ well it’s not!” Bishop snarled, unleashing his weapon.

“Just as _you_ know that weapon will have no effect on me.”

“Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.”

Apocalypse smiled. “I would be careful about pissing off Apocalypse, if I were you.”

“ _I_ would be making sure that interdimensional rift never _opens_ , if I were you.”

“And you blame me for what is to come?”

Bishop held his weapon steady, aimed at the behemoth’s chest. “Your name is ‘Apocalypse.’ Hell yeah I blame you.”

“How refreshing,” Apocalypse commented, “Someone observant. –You _still_ haven’t answered my question.”

Bishop stared at the barrel of his weapon. His fingers flexed, tightened. His jaw shifted. “If you won’t stop that damned thing, I’ll find someone who will.”

“An empty threat.” Apocalypse paused. “One would think your first choice would have been the X-Men.”

“I already tried that. They’re distracted right now. The last rift was only hours away from becoming strong enough to destroy the entire _planet._ I can’t take that chance again.”

“And the Fantastic Four?”

“Also distracted.”

“Hmm,” Apocalypse hummed. “How interesting.”

Bishop’s muscles tightened. “Did you plan this, too?”

“Oh, no. I am merely a casual observer. I have my _own_ plans.”

“So you’re just going to let this happen!” Bishop accused.

“I’ve already told you: what interest have I in destroying the world? Then there would be nothing to rule.”

“Are you saving the planet or are you not?”

“In due time.”

“ _God_ I hate you.” Bishop lowered his weapon.

“Yes,” Apocalypse agreed. “I am a god.”

* * *

Reed threw down his wrench in frustration. It clanged loudly on the concrete floor. Sinister glanced up enquiringly.

“I can’t do this!” Reed exclaimed. “I’ve already altered it to receive maximum power flow, I’ve reconfigured the barrier mechanisms so it should hold more securely than last time, but what you are asking of me is impossible! There is no way to generate enough power to activate this thing! You would need an _absurd_ amount of power—more than the entirety of New York City uses in one year, _all at once!_ There is no battery in the world capable of producing that amount of energy! It just can’t be done!”

Sinister regarded him with glowing red eyes, which were especially haunting in the shadows, where he sat. “Then engineer it to use less energy.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can.” He smiled, showing his needle-like teeth. “Aren’t you one of the world’s foremost experts on clean energy?”

“Yes, but-! You would need to harness a small _star_ to power this thing!”

“Then figure out a way to engineer a small star.” Sinister licked his finger and flipped the page in the book he was reading.

Reed made a frustrated sound.

“Perhaps _this_ will motivate you,” purred Susan’s voice from the shadows.

Reed spun around quickly, pale. “Susan?!”

Susan grinned.

A green-haired woman crept up from behind her suddenly and yanked her into a head lock.

Susan struggled. “Let me go, you big meanie!” she whined.

“Never,” the green-haired woman lashed back. She produced a collar from her jacket and held it in front of Susan’s face.

“No!” Susan protested dramatically. “Not the collar!”

The green-haired woman put the collar around her neck and pretended to activate it. Susan screamed.

“That’s enough,” Reed said roughly.

The green-haired woman pulled Susan closer by the throat. Abruptly her grip loosened; she caressed Susan’s neck. “Now you are my slave,” she purred, looking at Susan through hooded lids.

Susan made a pitiful noise, looking very submissive.

“That’s _enough!”_ Reed said louder, making himself taller, fists clenched.

“Oooo, what are you gonna _do_ to me, ElastaBoy?” the green-haired woman taunted. “Something _Fantastic?”_

Susan sniggered. “He’s not so _fantastic_ at _some_ things.” She gave the green-haired woman a lusty look.

“Is Mister Fantastic not so fantastic in bed?” the green-haired woman crooned pityingly.

 _“Terrible,_ ” Susan confirmed.

“Stop impersonating my wife,” Reed threatened, stretching higher and looming towards them.

“You’ve pushed him too far,” Sinister warned. “Now he won’t be productive.”

“Sorry, Master,” the women chorused, noses mutually wrinkling in distaste over the latter word. The woman who looked like Susan transformed into a blue-skinned woman with red hair and yellow eyes. She was naked.

Reed averted his eyes and shrunk back down, feeling strangely hollow.

“That’s what will happen to her if you don’t cooperate,” the naked woman informed him.

“And I won’t be so nice next time,” the green-haired woman promised.

Reed stared mournfully at the machine. Somehow, he would get it to work.

* * *

Johnny really wished Susan would stop pacing. She kept blocking the TV screen. Johnny craned his neck. “Susan!” he whined.

“Where could Reed have gotten to? Why hasn’t the Professor located him yet? Why isn’t he answering his phone?”

“I don’t know! But you’re blocking my view!”

“Your _view?”_ Susan exclaimed incredulously. “Your brother-in-law is _missing_ and the only thing you care about is TV?!”

Johnny sighed and rolled his eyes. “Susan, there are a _lot_ of things I care about. My high score is one of them.”

The doorbell rang.

Susan stared at the door like it was going to bite her.

“I’ll get it!” Johnny leapt off the couch and bounded to the door. He opened it, ready to greet whoever-it-was with a grin and an apology for his nervous wreck of a sister, except when he saw who it was his eyes got wide and every thought he’d ever had flew right out of his brain. “Remy!”

“Johnny,” Remy greeted. He smiled warmly. “Ah thought wha’ with all de excitement goin’ on, ya might want tu take it easy.”

“Take it easy?” Johnny repeated, staring. Coherent thought in general had ceased, and he was left with fractures of ‘wow Remy has pretty hair’ and ‘his lips’ and ‘stubble.’

“Ya know. Take a break, get away from it all.” Gambit leaned against the door frame, eyes smoldering. His mouth curled up lazily on one side. “Ya would like that, wouldn’t ya?”

“Hell yeah!” Johnny’s voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat, blushing. “Um, what… what do you wanna do?”

“Howsabout we go fo’ a drive?”

“Okay!” Johnny turned around and shouted unnecessarily at his sis, “I’M GOING ON A RIDE WITH REMY! SEE YA LATER SIS!”

Remy chuckled and escorted him down the walkway, one hand on the small of Johnny’s back.

“So where are we going?”

“Oh,” Remy drawled, “A place out in de country. Far away from pryin’ eyes.” He eyed Johnny hotly. “Thought ya might wan’ tu see _mah_ place. Ah’ve been tu _yours_ enough times,” he teased. The curve of his lips was absolutely sinful.

Johnny blushed scarlet. “Y- _your_ place? Wow.” A series of pornographic images swirled through his head.

Remy chuckled again. “It’s a bit of a drive,” he warned.

“Oh no.” Johnny rolled his eyes. “More time with _you._ ” He pushed fondly at Remy’s side.

They shared a smile.

Once they got to the car, Remy held the door open for him.

“Dude!” Johnny commented. “Sweet ride!”

“Thank you, mon ami.” Remy closed the door behind Johnny and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Dude!” Johnny exclaimed. “You’ve got satellite radio?! Oh man, this is the _best!”_ He fiddled around with the stations until he found a particularly obnoxious pop station. “Hope you like Britney!” he shouted, cranking it up.

Remy just smirked as Johnny dramatically sang along. They drove towards the sunset, sky fading from aqua to crimson like blood in a pool.

On the third song or so, Johnny invited Remy to sing along, but Remy chuckled and declined. He kept his eyes on the road. Johnny was slightly disappointed, but then Backstreet’s Back started playing and there was no way Johnny was _not_ dramatically singing that.

Several theatrical renditions of ‘90s and early 2000’s pop songs later, they pulled to a stop in front of a very large house. Johnny cut off mid-lyric with a bummed “Heyyy!” before Remy pointed with his half-gloved hand at the house in front of them.

“Whoa,” Johnny said, getting out of the car. _“Cool.”_

Remy steered him inside, smirking with amusement at Johnny’s various observations about the building’s exterior.

“So _this_ is where you live?!” Johnny was impressed. The place was _huge_. Really high-end too, some really quality stuff. “Looks like somebody _rich_ lives here!”

“You’ve discovah’d mah secret,” Remy teased, placing one hand on his chest. The tips of his fingers disappeared beneath the lapel of his jacket.

Johnny whirled around to look at the front entryway. “I mean seriously! It’s just _you_ here?! I mean, _damn._ This place looks at least a hundred years old! –Remy?” Johnny interrupted himself as something cool surrounded his neck.

Johnny frowned and looked down. He saw a crescent of black just under his chin. The shiny black material looked vaguely familiar, like the hint of a shadow from a nightmare. It seemed so out of place in this brightly lit foyer, with his favorite person on the planet standing behind him. Johnny turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Remy?”

He had to be joking. That was it. Remy was just playing around. He wouldn’t really—

Remy leaned down next to Johnny’s ear. “Ah told ya,” Remy lilted, pressing a button which shot excruciating pain through every nerve ending Johnny had, “ _Nevah_ trust de Cajun.”


	8. Chapter 8

Johnny hung from a stone wall, arms outstretched. He was kept suspended upright by several chains attached to his neck, arms, and torso. His face was gaunt, his blue eyes dull. “Remy, why…?” he asked, voice worn and scratchy.

Remy lounged across from him in a wooden chair with his feet propped up on a table, one leg casually crossed over the other, accentuating the lines of his body. “Because it’s fun.” He lazily shuffled cards between his hands.

“Fun?!” Johnny’s voice cracked.

“Oh yes,” Remy purred. “And do ya know what will be even _more_ fun? Capturin’ de rest a’ your pathetic team and lettin’ you all watch each othah _die._ ”

“NO!” Johnny struggled weakly against his chains. Everything hurt.

Remy chuckled, eyes half-closed. _“You_ were the _easiest_ one to capture.” His hands condensed the deck into a compact rectangle. “And to think, you trusted me that _whole_ time, when all of dis was a lie.”

Johnny shook his head, blinking away tears. “No!”

“You _really_ thought last night meant something?” Remy taunted. “You were just another pawn in a long, _long_ trail of one-night stands. Ya meant nothin’ to me. Ya never did.”

“But… I thought…” Johnny didn’t know what he thought anymore.

Remy laughed coldly. “You thought, what? That those sweet nothings I whispered in your ear actually _meant_ something? Cher! Ah say that to _everyone_ Ah sleep with.” Pityingly, he added, “Did ya _really_ think someone like me could _evah_ be in _love_ with someone like _you?_ ” Remy pulled out an ace of hearts, held it up, and split it right down the middle. He let both halves float to the ground and rest there, right at Johnny’s feet.

“But… Sinister-!”

“What _about_ me?” said Sinister, emerging from the shadows.

“You see, cher,” Remy pocketed his deck and stood, “Ah was workin’ for Sinister de _whole_ time.”

Johnny sputtered a protest, but the syllables were caught in his throat.

Sinister laid a hand on Remy’s shoulder. “You’re such a _marvelous_ actor.”

Remy smirked proudly. “It was all too easy. He bought every line. A real class-A _sucker._ ”

Sinister smiled at Remy, a crescent of needle-like teeth glinting in the dim lighting. “In a few hours, he should be ready to hook up to my machine.”

“Excellent.”

Johnny stared at them, gutted. He searched his memory for any signs that Remy had been about to betray him, but he couldn’t find anything. He was completely stymied. “What machine?” he managed.

“One that will make your collar look like a _plaything,”_ Remy answered.

“Yes,” Sinister added, relishing every word, “this one will be _much_ more painful.”

“But-!” Johnny objected. “Aren’t you at least going to tell me what it _does?”_

“It will probably kill you,” Sinister answered blithely. The two walked out of the room, Sinister’s arm slung casually around Remy’s shoulders. “Bonsoir, ‘mon ami’!” Remy called mockingly without even looking. The door slammed coldly behind them.

Johnny stared at the torn ace of hearts at his feet. His vision blurred. “Remy,” he whispered. A single tear fell down his cheek.

* * *

Susan was pacing back and forth across the living room floor, perking up at every little sound. One of these such sounds was Ben coming in the front door and stomping the snow off. “Still nothin’?”

“No!” Susan confirmed, exasperated. “Professor X promised they’d keep trying, and said they’re doing everything they can, but I’ve heard nothing from them since this morning! I want to _do_ something, but I have _no_ idea what I can do, no idea where Reed has disappeared to or when, and Reed _still_ isn’t answering his phone, and neither is Johnny!”

Ben paused, surprised. “He’s not here?”

“No, he’s out with Gambit,” Susan answered distractedly, resuming her pacing.

Ben stood stock-still. “No, he’s not,” Ben said slowly.

Susan frowned. “What? What do you mean?”

“I was just out with Gambit. We played a round of poker.”

Susan’s confusion rose. “Why would he—? Why didn’t he bring Johnny home?” Panic seized her with its freezing talons. “Why isn’t Johnny answering his phone?” Her eyes widened. “What if…?”

“Easy, Suzie. Johnny almost never answers his phone. ‘Specially when he’s on a date. Where did Gambit say he was goin’?”

“On a drive…” Susan sat down. “He didn’t say where.”

“Aw, crap.” Ben picked his phone out of his pocket. “Gambit,” he said into it. He held the phone to the side of his head. “Hey, bud. Susan here says ya went on a date with Flame Boy earlier today an’ didn’t bring him back.” He listened, face grim.

Susan watched him, pale.

“Said you went on a drive. Didn’t say where.” Ben listened for a long moment. “Yeah. That’s what I thought too.”

He hung up the phone.

“Well?” Susan asked, afraid of the answer.

“He was at Xavier’s all morning. The shapeshifter had already impersonated him, so they’ve been keeping a close eye on him to make sure he’s safe. He’s just as worried as you are.”

“It wasn’t him.” Susan felt like she had ice crawling through her veins. “The shapeshifter took Johnny!”

* * *

Remy stormed into Xavier Institute, red-and-black eyes blazing with fury. It was late, so luckily, no one crossed his path. He marched straight to his room, changed into his battle gear, and lined his pockets with extra cards. The air around him crackled with static electricity.

He stormed down the hallway, coattails swirling behind him. He made a beeline for the one person he knew would be awake at this hour. He banged on Logan’s door.

Logan answered his door. “What is it, Cajun?” he started off, grumpy. Then he noticed Remy’s expression, his clenched fists. “Why d’ya look like someone spit in yer gumbo?”

“Dey kidnapped Johnny.” Sparks crackled on the carpet near Remy’s boots. The charge in the air around him intensified.

All traces of sarcasm fled from Wolverine’s face. “You sure?”

“Dat damned shapeshifter impersonated me again an’ kidnapped Johnny.” Remy was aware that his eyes were glowing. He tried to tone it down a notch. “Ah need ya tu help me track ‘im down.”

Logan considered this a moment, then smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Finally. I get to see some _action._ ”

They each mounted their motorcycles and sped off into the night, driving side by side. Logan was marginally impressed by Remy’s complete disregard for traffic laws. They swerved around parked cars, hopped the curb, ignored red lights, and at one memorable point, used the back of a truck as a ramp and went airborne over a parked cop car. The cop car tried to follow them, but was bogged down by traffic that they easily wove through, at roughly twice the speed of the cars around them. They didn’t slow until they reached the Fantastic Four headquarters.

Remy kicked down his kickstand, powered off his bike, and swung a long leg over the side, dismounting. He stormed up the walkway, fists clenched.

“You got a time on their departure?” Logan asked, following.

“Susan knows.” Remy banged on the front door with his fist. Susan answered it, equal parts relieved and alarmed to see his face. He cut off her greeting with, “What time did Johnny leave?”

“A…around four. I can check the security feed.”

“’Around four’ is close enough,” Logan said gruffly behind him.

“Do ya have security feed for de outside, as well?”

“It hasn’t been working lately,” Susan faltered.

“Ah’ll _make_ it work.” Remy stormed back down the walkway and located the security cameras on the edge of their property.

“Like ya when you’re angry,” Logan said, sniffing the air periodically.

Remy didn’t answer. He laid a hand on a security camera and brought it back to life. He climbed up and down the fence, fixing the other cameras as well. “Feed’s blank going back fo’ several days,” he said darkly.

“Mercedes left here about four-fifteen,” Logan said. “Johnny was in it.”

“Which way did dey go?”

Logan pointed. “That way.”

Remy mounted his motorcycle and revved its engine.

“You sure you don’t wanna wait for backup?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“If Jean was de one in trouble,” Remy countered, “would _you?”_

Logan faced forward and revved his motorcycle.

They sped off into the night.

* * *

Reed set down his wrench. He was  _exhausted._ “That’s all I can do for tonight,” he pleaded. “ _Please,_ can I get some sleep?”

“And right when I’ve brought you company?” Sinister stepped aside to show Lorna and Gambit dragging Johnny’s listless body into the room.

“Johnny?!” Reed called with alarm.

They set him down near Reed.

Johnny slumped over, staring into space. There was a collar around his neck.

“This is what we’ll do to Susan if you keep stopping,” Lorna taunted.

Reed pushed his hair back with both hands. “But I’ve done all I can! It still needs an _absurd_ amount of power, and it would take _weeks_ to invent something capable of producing that amount of energy!”

“Well then,” said Sinister, “It’s a good thing we already have it.” He was smiling.

Reed frowned. “What?” He stood. “Then what have I been doing all this work for?!”

Lorna shoved him back down in the chair.

“Your work was necessary,” Sinister said coolly.

Reed clenched his jaw. “Where is the energy source?”

“He’s on his way,” Sinister answered smugly.

“’He’?” Reed frowned.

“He’s no doubt under some grandiose illusion that he’s going to ‘Save The Day,’” Gambit sneered.

_“Who’s_ on his way?” Reed pressed.

“A certain… energy manipulator,” Sinister explained. “We’ve stolen something which he _badly_ wants back.”

“And you’re not worried?” Reed prompted.

“Why should we be?” Lorna asked as though the whole idea was funny. “He’ll be so distracted by his precious damsel in distress, beating him is going to be child’s play.”

“You’ve kidnapped someone else?”

“We’re working on it.” Lorna examined her nails.

“Once our energy source arrives,” Sinister explained, “he’ll be so desperate to save what’s precious to him, he won’t care that he’s outnumbered. We’ll defeat him, the two of them will forge your ‘star’, and my portal will open.”

Reed noticed a slight shift in the air. Lorna glanced towards the staircase. Reed spoke again, stalling. “Why do you need the portal? What are you trying to accomplish?”

“Revenge,” Sinister answered coolly. “Apocalypse has betrayed me. I intend to betray Apocalypse.”

“By destroying space-time?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Sinister scoffed. “The portal opens a _door_ in space-time. There, I will enter other dimensions and gather an army so large and so powerful that no one, not even Apocalypse, can defeat me.”

Reed’s eyes flicked towards the stairs, then away again. “That’s certainly a well-thought-out plan. But I think you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?” Sinister asked condescendingly, one eyebrow raised.

“Me,” said a gruff voice from the corner of the room. Wolverine launched himself at Sinister, claws out, but was halted mid-air, his mouth open in a snarl, his eyes barely able to register surprise as all of his muscles stiffened at once.

Lorna held out both hands towards him, concentrating. “Not so fast,” she said.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Sinister crooned, bending to examine Wolverine. “I wasn’t expecting _you.”_ He cupped Wolverine’s chin. “Where is your acquaintance? –Perhaps he decided he is not one for commitment, after all,” he tossed over his shoulder at Johnny.

Something hot pink was chucked across the room. They barely had time to register that it was a glowing ace of spades before it blew a huge hole in Sinister’s uninjured side. Sinister yowled in surprised pain.

“Remy?” Johnny asked, lifting his head weakly. There was one Gambit standing near him, tense, and another Gambit crouched near the staircase, legs spread, a glowing card in his hand. Their eyes locked for a brief moment.

Pain and empathy exploded across Remy’s face, momentarily eclipsing his rage. “Johnny,” he said before the other Gambit launched himself at him. The two grappled on the floor, kicking and elbowing each other, faces locked in an identical snarl. Johnny wasn’t sure which was which.

Sinister made a lunge for the two grappling Gambits. “Oh no you don’t!” Reed stretched out of his restraints and constricted himself around Mister Sinister. Mister Sinister struggled with his new opponent, trying to escape.

“Well, that looks like fun,” Lorna observed. She gestured with her hands; Wolverine spread out in an X shape, his head thrown back. His bones popped as she pulled them as far as they would stretch. “I want to play too.” Her hands came together to form a ball. Wolverine crumpled in on himself. She directed the Wolverine-ball over towards Reed and Sinister and sliced at Reed with Wolverine’s claws.

Reed yelled out in pain.

One of the grappling Gambits gained the upper hand. Johnny wasn’t sure which one. The one on the bottom looked scared. “Remy!” Johnny called out. The top one’s expression flickered. The bottom one grabbed the top one’s wrists. The top one frowned, his eyes glowed, and the bottom one’s coat began to glow where the top one was grabbing it. The bottom one’s eyes widened; parts of his coat exploded. The top one jumped off.

“Ow!” complained the wounded Gambit, standing and cradling his wounded chest. “You sonuva-!”

Gambit charged a card and threw it at the other Gambit, who dodged it. They resumed their highly acrobatic fight.

Reed was holding Sinister as well as he could, trying to choke him unconscious, but he kept getting slashed by Wolverine’s claws. He was forced to let go and shrink back down to regular size. He was bleeding in several places from what looked like cat scratch marks.

Lorna twirled Wolverine in the air faster and faster until he was a blur and launched him, claws out, straight at Reed.

Reed flattened himself- literally- just in time.

The Gambits swung kicks and punches at each other, each using a bo staff, jumping off walls and sometimes even using the ceiling as a springboard. One of the Gambits was clearly more skilled with the staff, his face blazing with fury and determination. The other Gambit was just angry, and at times almost seemed to be having fun.

Mister Sinister slunk away from the fight, cradling his wounds. He disappeared into the shadows.

Lorna launched her spinning Wolverine-ball at Reed over and over, bouncing off the walls and ceiling just for fun.

Gambit charged a card and threw it at the other Gambit, hitting him in the face. The card exploded. The wounded Gambit fell to the ground, cradling his wounded face and yowling in pain. He reverted back to the form of a blue woman with red hair.

Still furious, Gambit spun around, charging a card, and launched it at Lorna.

“Ow!” she complained, her concentration breaking for a moment as she cradled her injured elbow. Logan hurtled into a wall. She snarled at Gambit. “That hurt!”

“It’s gonna hurt a _whole_ lot more when Ah’m through with ya.” He charged another card, eyes blazing.

Logan yanked his claws out of the ground and stood, woozy. “Same here.”

Gambit threw his card at Lorna. She dodged it. He charged five cards at once and threw them in quick succession.

Wolverine regained his balance and charged at the dancing Lorna.

Gambit circled her, charging and throwing cards, keeping her off-balance.

Wolverine held his claws to her neck. “Any last words?”

“BEHIND YOU!” Johnny yelled, terrified.

Wolverine lifted his head, confused. Gambit spun around, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. The blue woman, her face mangled on one side, had conjured a sword and plunged it into Remy’s side. He fell to his knees, wincing.

The distraction gave Lorna just enough time to seize control of Wolverine’s bones once more, duck out of his grasp, and face him triumphantly. “You thought you could defeat _me?_ The Mistress of Magnetism? Your _bones_ are made out of _metal!”_

“No,” Wolverine struggled, “I didn’t really think that would work. But Gumbo did.”

Lorna raised an eyebrow. “’Gumbo’?”

She was hit in the back with an explosion which broke her concentration and left her on the ground, stunned.

“Yeah.” Wolverine launched himself at Mystique, whose arm was raised, ready to slash at Gambit’s neck. _“Gumbo.”_

“Remy!” Johnny called.

Gambit raised his tired head. He saw Mystique’s sword just in time and rolled out of the way.

Mystique turned her attention to Wolverine, sword-arm brought up to counter his repeated swipes. Wolverine backed her towards the staircase.

Remy tossed cards across the room, aimed at Johnny’s restraints. They broke, charring the wall behind him. Johnny fell forward. He was still weak and unsteady on his feet, but he made a beeline for Remy, who was still on the ground.

Remy’s hand was pressed to his side. “Help me up.”

Johnny could barely stand, himself, but he braced himself and offered his hand. Remy clasped his wrist. Together, they pulled Remy to his feet.

Lorna groaned and shifted.

Remy placed his hands on the sides of Lorna’s head and sent a charge through her skull. “That should keep ‘er there fo’ a few hours.” Remy swayed on his feet.

Johnny leaned into him, holding him up just as much as Remy was holding him. “We need to call for help!”

“Help,” Remy said, smug despite his weakness, “is on de way.”

* * *

The X-Men arrived at the abandoned mansion in time to see a trail of green ooze leading outside, which stopped as though whatever had been bleeding it had gotten inside of a vehicle. The green ooze led them towards a staircase, where a trail of blood began.

They followed the trail of blood down the stairs.

Polaris lay on her side, staring blankly into space, paralyzed.

Reed had just finished wrapping a cloth around Gambit’s waist. A faint red line was visible through the cloth.

Johnny was wearing a collar, sitting on the ground, holding Gambit’s upper body in his lap. The side of Gambit’s forehead was cradled against Johnny’s chest.

“Bastards got away,” Wolverine growled, descending the staircase.

“Who?” Jean asked.

“Mister Sinister and Mystique. Polaris here teamed up with ‘em. Somethin’ about revenge on Apocalypse.”

“We’ll take Polaris into custody,” Cyclops announced. “Reed and Gambit need medical attention.”

“We’re taking you back with us,” Jean announced gently to Johnny, who seemed only to faintly register that they were even there. Johnny nodded, not taking his eyes off Gambit.

“Susan is waiting for you,” she added, for Reed’s benefit.

“She was right,” Reed said, distraught. “All this time, she was right…”

“Don’t worry about that now,” Jean soothed, shepherding him up the stairs. “I’m sure she forgives you.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Johnny asked.

“Ah’ll be all right, cher,” Gambit said very quietly. His lips barely moved, and his eyes were nearly closed.

Johnny cradled him closer, worried.

Cyclops and Jubilee gently pried Gambit from Johnny’s arms and carried him towards the staircase. Johnny stared after them.

Kitty laid her hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Come with me,” she urged. She offered a hand to help him stand up.

Johnny accepted it numbly, still staring after Gambit.

Susan and Ben were waiting for them at Xavier Institute. When the X-Men arrived, with the paralyzed Polaris in tow, Susan threw her arms around Reed and exclaimed “Thank goodness you’re all right!”

“I’ll fetch the key to unlock your collar,” Jean promised Johnny.

“Oh, Johnny!” Susan exclaimed. She threw her arms around Johnny and held him tight.

Johnny let Susan hug him, stiff and numb. He watched, over her shoulder, as Hank led Reed, Cyclops, and Jubilee to the medical wing, examining Reed’s wounds as he went. Cyclops and Jubilee were carrying Gambit between them. His coat had fallen aside, showing the blood-soaked cloth binding his torso.

“Johnny, are you all right?!” Susan asked, holding his face and scanning his eyes. His gaze was fixed over her left shoulder.

“Remy…” he said, voice quiet and rough.

“He’ll pull through,” Ben ground out. He patted Johnny on the back uncertainly. “It’s good ta see ya, kid.”

Johnny attempted a small smile. It fell flat. “Good to see you too.”

* * *

No surprise registered on Apocalypse’s face when he found the mansion empty and spattered with blood.

In fact, no emotion registered on his face whatsoever.

Bishop found this creepy.

The time-traveler’s weapons were drawn; he snuck about the place on full alert, ready to shoot anything that looked suspicious.

They ventured down to the basement, following the trails of blood. Judging by the spatters and trails on the walls and floors, this had been a battleground—and recently, too. The blood was still wet.

Apocalypse calmly approached the arch at the center of the room. “How foolish,” he mused.

“Don’t you _dare.”_

“You think I would use it?” Apocalypse asked with detached amusement.

“Isn’t that your plan?”

Apocalypse raised his hand. “You presume to know the mind of Apocalypse?” His hand glowed. He swiveled his outstretched arm to face the arch behind him and blasted it with energy without even looking. The machine crumpled in upon itself.

Bishop stared at the smoldering pile of twisted metal. His files had been wrong. His files were _never_ wrong.

“Their entire endeavor was foolish,” Apocalypse explained as he lowered his hand. _”No one_ can win against me.”

Anger flared across Bishop’s face. “We’ll see about that.”

“Please,” Apocalypse scoffed. “You think _you_ can defeat me?”

“I can try.”

“Do you have a _death wish_ , time-traveler?”

“I only wish for one death.” Bishop aimed his gun. _“Yours.”_ He fired.

Apocalypse disappeared.

Bishop whirled around, weapon held high, ready to fire again at any second.

The room was empty.

He spun around, and around, sweat beading on his temple, arm muscles tense, weapon held tight.

“Come back here, you coward!” he dared.

The room remained empty.

“Bastard!” Bishop cursed. He was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably silly, but when Polaris was using Wolverine as a spiky pinball, I *almost* made a Sonic the Hedgehog joke. Almost.


	9. Chapter 9

The Fantastic Four were cordially invited to stay once more at their temporary quarters in Xavier Institute. Speaking for the rest of his team, Reed accepted. His wounds were minor, due to him being stretched when Wolverine scratched him, but he was covered in bandages and antiseptic. It was both uncomfortable and impractical to move unless he had to. Susan was still shaken; her face was ashen, her spine rigid. She wasn’t talking much. And Johnny seemed intent on eating everything in the freezer.

“Save some fer the rest of us,” Ben joked as Johnny started on his third tub of ice cream.

Johnny flipped him off.

“I am deeply sorry, Susan,” Reed said, holding both of her hands. “You were right. The collars should have been destroyed.”

Susan didn’t meet his eyes. “But they weren’t. And now we don’t know where they are.”

“But we know who has them,” Reed pointed out.

Susan’s grim expression spoke to exactly how comforting this was.

Ben hovered in the doorway, silently observing Reed’s pitiful attempts to comfort Susan. He wished he could knock some sense into both of their heads, get things back the way they used’ta be. If only clobberin’ could solve their problems.

Johnny poked Ben, spoon in his mouth. “Ubiwee’sh inbitim us doo pway deedeeaw.”

Ben squinted. “What?”

Johnny rolled his eyes and took the spoon out. “Jubilee’s inviting us to play DDR,” he repeated as though that should have been obvious.

Ben glanced pointedly down at his huge, rocky feet. He’d break the game pad for sure. “I’ll just watch.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.” Johnny deposited his ice cream and spoon in Ben’s hands and scurried off to join Jubilee in front of the television. Something loud, cheerful, and Japanese started playing. Their faces glowed in multi-colored bright lights.

“I’ll verse loser!” volunteered Bobby.

“Why not winner?” Jubilee taunted. “You chicken?”

“Nope. It’s _always_ versus winner. Loser shakes things up,” Bobby clarified.

“Guess I won’t be playing a second round!” Jubilee quipped.

“Uh, ex _cuse_ me?” Johnny retorted.

“What!” Jubilee replied. “You _want_ to lose?”

“No! I’m gonna kick your ass!”

“Not if I kick yours first!”

More loud Japanese music played. Johnny and Jubilee stared intently at the screen, busting out dorky dance moves and stomping on the arrows with their feet. Bobby cheered them on.

“What is that obnoxious racket?” Wolverine griped, stepping out of the kitchen with a beer.

Jubilee answered in Japanese, not missing a beat. She and Johnny’s scores were extremely close. They both had streaks going.

“Thought so,” Wolverine replied, sitting on the couch behind him. He popped the tab on his beer. It hissed as the excess air inside released. “I call winner.”

“I already called loser!” Bobby informed him.

“Huh. After you, then.” He sipped his beer.

“Can I play?” Rogue asked nervously, stepping in.

“Sure you can.” Wolverine stretched one arm over the back of the sofa and smiled at her.

Rogue sat down next to him, carefully keeping a sliver of space between them. Logan reached up and stroked her long, wavy hair down over her neck, then loosely draped his arm around her shoulders. He took another sip of beer as she blushed and leaned into him.

Johnny made a frustrated sound, stomping furiously on the game pad as a ridiculous series of arrows scrolled across the screen. He and Jubilee stomped in time with the music, legs twisting, eyes glued to the screen. Jubilee was grinning. Johnny was scowling. Their scores climbed and climbed.

The song ended with Johnny five points behind Jubilee. He made a loud, frustrated sound and stepped off the mat.

Jubilee tutted, waving one finger. “It’s verses _loser_ , remember?” She stepped gamely off her mat, smiling and gesturing to Bobby.

“I am _not_ a loser!” Johnny huffed, crossing his arms.

“But you lost!”

“THAT GAME IS RIGGED!”

“Hey,” said Bobby, stepping onto Jubilee’s mat, “It was close enough to call a tie. Who wants to verse next?”

Johnny stepped back off the mat, adamant that he was not a loser.

Wolverine set down his beer. “That’d be me.”

They scrolled through the songs and picked something poppy from the 1980s.

“Ach! I luff this song!” Kurt exclaimed, stepping in from the kitchen with an apple clutched in his three-fingered hand. He perched near Susan on the other couch. Reed had released her hands and was playing with her hair. Susan was leaning slightly away from him, staring at the television screen without really seeing it.

“How are you, fraulein?” Kurt asked softly.

Susan spared him a glance. “I almost lost my husband and my brother today,” she answered quietly. It was hard to hear her over the music.

Reed squeezed her shoulder.

“If zere is anything at all zat I can do,” Kurt offered, “say ze word. Ve are friends, ja?”

“Yes.” She returned her unfocused gaze to the television. “Thank you, Kurt.” She tried to smile, but it stretched her face the wrong way. She let her face drop. Reed pulled her closer. Susan wanted to feel comforted, but something was holding her back. She loved Reed, and yet…

Kurt took a bite of his apple, watching the dueling dancers. He cheered when Wolverine nailed a tricky combo.

Susan watched the way Kurt’s face lit up as he watched the dancers. She observed the animated conversation between Johnny and Jubilee, the way Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head in fond annoyance at Johnny, the way Rogue blushed when Bobby offered to verse her next. She couldn’t help thinking, she should find some solace there, against her husband’s chest. She should feel comforted by his apology, his concern. She knew he was a good person. She knew he tried to do the right thing. She knew he cared about her—loved her, even. But as she watched the various levels of happiness unfold and intermingle around her, she couldn’t help feeling like she was the eye of a storm, empty, somehow, where everyone else was full.

Oblivious to her inner thoughts, Reed kept his arm around her, kept stroking her hair. He had fallen silent. She could practically feel the wheels turning in his head- logical, practical, focused on something that had far removed him from the present moment.

Rogue was surprisingly good at DDR. She beat Bobby, to much loud cheering from everyone. Everyone, except for Reed, whose mind was miles away, and Susan, who felt like she was watching everything on a screen: Johnny stepped onto the adjacent pad, claiming the spot versing Rogue. Rogue beamed, her cheeks flushed with exercise, her eyes bright, and asked in her soft southern accent if he was ready. Johnny confirmed, poised with challenge, ready for whatever song Rogue chose. She chose something else cheerful and half in Japanese, something about the moon. Wolverine cheered the loudest when Rogue won. Johnny wasn’t even angry; he just punched her on the shoulder and said “Congrats.”

And Susan wanted to be happy for her brother in this rare moment of maturity, wanted to feel warmed by the smile Wolverine gave Rogue when he climbed onto the vacated dance mat and said “My turn,” but her mind was occupied with the man whose arm was around her, whose scent had once struck her heart with chords of home and comfort, and which now smelled of stale sweat.

* * *

Susan was dozing when her wrist communicator started flashing red. She cracked open bleary eyes, wishing she could sleep as solidly as the man next to her. She reached over and clicked the button to answer the incoming call.

“Susan!” Bishop barked as soon as she answered. “I’ve just received a distress call from Latveria. Seeing as it’s _your_ mess, I strongly urge _you_ and your team clean it up!”

“Slow down, Bishop.” Susan wiped her bleary eyes. “What’s ‘our’ mess?”

“A side-effect from that rift Gambit opened in reality,” Bishop explained impatiently. He silenced another incoming call with an angry jab of his pointer finger. “There are currently dinosaurs terrorizing Latveria. Victor Von Doom is attempting to keep them at bay, but there are too many for him to handle. They need your help.”

“Have you tried contacting the X-Men?” Susan said tiredly.

“I _have_ contacted the X-Men, but roughly half of them are out of commission, and the other half are asleep.”

“That’s because it’s 2:30 in the morning.” Her clock blinked 2:32 in glowing neon rectangles.

“So wake them up if you want help, but this needs to be taken care of, _now._ ” Bishop had another incoming call. He gave Susan one last glare before hanging up.

Reed snored peacefully on next to her.

Susan gave up on sleep. She tiptoed into her slippers and out of the room to start up the coffee machine. To her surprise, Johnny was crouched in front of the fridge.

“Johnny?”

Johnny looked up vacantly, holding several pretzel rods in one hand and an energy drink in the other, a half-eaten pretzel rod dangling from his mouth like a cigar. “Susan? What are _you_ doing up?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“Hungry.” Johnny grabbed some cheese, awkwardly balanced his food, and wobbled over to the kitchen table. “You?”

“We have a mission.” She measured coffee into the coffee maker.

“Wow. Really?” he said with his mouth full. “Isn’t it, like, two a.m.?”

“Two-thirty,” Susan confirmed.

“Wha’ss the mission?” Johnny washed down his half-chewed mouthful with a large gulp of energy drink.

Susan sighed. “Dinosaurs. In Latveria.”

“Dinosaurs!” Johnny exclaimed. “Cool!”

“Doctor Doom doesn’t seem to think so.” The coffee maker dribbled to life.

“Dude!” Johnny snorted. “ _Doctor Doom_ is asking for _our help?”_

“Not directly.” Susan watched the coffee pot slowly fill.

“Wait. So we’re heading there _now?”_

“Soon as the coffee is done.”

“Wait.” Johnny frowned. “Why isn’t Reed up, then?”

“He’s had a long day. I’m letting him sleep.” Susan winced internally at her lack of inflection.

“Oh.” This seemed to settle things for Johnny. “Ben?”

“I’ll wake him up when the coffee’s done.”

Johnny fell silent, accepting this. Well, silent except for the crunching of his pretzels, the slurping of his energy drink, the bouncing of his leg which was jiggling the table, the drumming of his fingers against the tabletop, and the occasional beat-boxing to punctuate whatever rhythm he was tapping out. And the room itself wasn’t silent; there was the steady gurgling of the cooling unit in the refrigerator, the dull buzzing of the lights, the constant bubble and trickle of the coffee maker, the sound of the pot being filled, the pitch of the falling liquid increasing as the wavering brown surface approached the top.

Ben wandered into the kitchen, squinting. “Coffee? At two a.m.?”

“We have a mission,” Susan calmly explained.

“…I’m gonna need at least three cups of that.”

Susan handed him his first one.

* * *

Susan left a note for Reed explaining where they’d gone, and asking him to please rinse out the coffee maker. A note which Reed did not see until he woke up around noon.

Reed was surprised that he’d slept in so late, but not nearly as surprised as he was by the note left on the pillow next to him. It stung that he’d been left behind. He wondered why Susan hadn’t woken him up. She’d been so distant lately.

Reed headed for the kitchen and rinsed out the coffee maker, as asked. Johnny and Ben had gone, too. He’d been left alone.

After eating an eerily silent breakfast, Reed headed down to the labs to distract himself. Hank greeted him congenially. The blue furred doctor’s melodious tones were at once soothing and familiar. He asked Reed whether he was up for conducting any further testing today, and Reed said that he was. The testing was a welcome distraction.

They had so far concluded that the cosmic mutations had been cancelled out of the X-Men’s DNA, not erased entirely, and they were curious as to whether circumstances could reactivate the mutations.

Nightcrawler was the most amenable to conducting these tests, as his cosmic mutation had hurt him the least. He was willing to face the pain again, if it meant helping his friends.

He was put through a controlled session in the danger room. At first, they had him fight a low-level threat, and asked him to consciously reactivate his powers, but he could not. He could teleport at will, and did so when necessary, but he could neither form a shield nor become invisible at will. Hank and Reed saw this as a positive thing: even when using those powers would benefit him during battle, Nightcrawler seemed incapable of activating them.

They turned the danger up one notch, and then another, and another, but Nightcrawler only used his mutant abilities, never his cosmic-induced ones.

Reed and Hank were satisfied that the others’ powers would not be accidentally activated during battle.

Sweaty and victorious, having beaten the program for the day, Nightcrawler beamed at them and shot them a thumbs-up.

Before Reed knew it, the afternoon had passed on into evening. One glance at the pink-and-yellow sky over the snow confirmed this.

His team had yet to return.

He apologized to the Professor about this, but the Professor was nothing but magnanimous and said they were welcome to stay for as long as they need.

His team did not return until after dark.

Susan and Ben were both chastising Johnny for something, which Johnny was brushing off. Something about not paying attention in battle, making stupid mistakes. Reed noticed that Johnny’s eyes were bloodshot and his feet shuffled as he walked. Susan didn’t look much better.

He decided to put off a confrontation until later (if ever).

They all paused when they saw Reed.

“Hungry?” he asked with a thin smile.

“Oh man!” Johnny expressed, “I am _exhausted!”_ He plopped down on an easy chair and activated the footrest. “If you got me pizza, I think I’d love you forever.”

“You mean like you love _Gambit_ forever?” Ben grumbled.

Johnny’s face did something complicated, then went shuttered as the color drained away. “…So how about that pizza?”

Ben sighed heavily. “Did you two have a fight er something?”

“I’d like pepperoni on mine,” Johnny said over top of Ben.

“Cajun crust?” Reed asked, picking up the phone.

Instead of saying yes, like Reed expected him to, Johnny looked vaguely like he’d just watched a bus crash into someone’s pet dog. And also vaguely like he’d been walking it at the time.

“Seriously?” Ben griped.

“Yeah,” Johnny said breathlessly. “The usual…”

Ben groaned.

Reed collected everyone’s pizza orders and called the pizza place. Ben was wheedling Johnny about Gambit, who, come to think of it, Johnny did seem to have a connection with, and Johnny continued dodging his questions and deflecting, which spoke more to confirmation than denial, in Reed’s experience.

“God, Ben! I don’t want to talk about it!”

Ben was frowning deeply. “Last time I saw you two together, you were so lovey-dovey I thought I was gonna be sick.”

Johnny plugged his ears and screwed his eyes shut and said “LA LA LA LA!” very loudly over whatever Ben was saying.

Reed wondered if Ben was onto something. Gambit _had_ seemed very concerned about Johnny when he’d rescued them from Mister Sinister. And Johnny, in return, had seemed worried about Gambit.

“All I’m saying is,” Ben practically shouted, “You should go talk to him!”

Johnny kept plugging his ears and saying “LA LA LA!” until Ben gave up and stopped talking.

* * *

Sleep didn’t go so well for the second night in a row.

The first night, Johnny had given up completely, resigned himself to insomnia, and spent the night eating junk food and playing pokemon until Susan dragged him on the surprise dinosaur mission. Which had been very cool, and very full of teeth, and Johnny had been battered around by an armored dinosaur with a club at the end of its tail because he’d been distracted. Johnny was bruised all over, but too proud to go to medical. He was pretty sure he didn’t break anything. No need to complain over a few bruises.

But they didn’t make sleeping any easier.

And neither did the card sitting on his dresser, whose cheerful heart shapes seemed to be laughing at him with every breath he took. Part of him wanted to tear it in half and stomp it into the floor. But that thought always left an aftertaste of sadness and the sharp tang of regret, so he just turned the card facedown and rolled over.

He couldn’t sleep.

Johnny opened his laptop and swiped open Netflix. Time to sit through a marathon of… something. He scrolled, and scrolled. Weird titles kept jumping out at him. He was halfway through _The Princess and the Frog_ when he realized it took place in New Orleans; some of the characters had Cajun accents and the bad guy wore purple and played with cards. He exited out of that and pulled up _Chopped;_ a cooking show ought to be nice and distracting. Except this season had a special episode on southern cooking, and one of the cooks decided to make jambalaya for his main dish. On to _Ratatouille!_ Pixar was always fun. Except then the rat started speaking. And his name was Remy.

Johnny slammed his laptop shut.

The thing was, he _couldn’t_ talk to him. He was through insisting that there was nothing to talk about. He knew he owed Remy some sort of explanation, maybe even –cringe- an _apology._ But the fake Gambit’s words were stuck in his head like a bad song, lodged there as firmly as a popcorn kernel between his teeth: threats that he’d never been more than a one-night stand.

The worst part was, he couldn’t prove that he _wasn’t._

It had been _years_ since he’d let himself open up like that, be vulnerable, _hope_ for something, and the damn thing was he’d already felt that way before he let himself see it. The way even just _looking_ at Remy squeezed his heart, _terrified_ him. No one had ever made him that happy. Or worried. He’d never genuinely cared about someone so deeply or so quickly. It was awful! He couldn’t stop looking at him whenever they were in the same room, felt like the little hairs on his arms were strung through with electricity whenever their sleeves brushed, felt like Remy’s deep voice reverberated through his very bones.

And when they _had_ touched, his skin _had_ burned.

And that had been okay.

Johnny curled into a ball, put on headphones, and blasted his ‘party music’ playlist to drown out his own thoughts as he watched the wall lighten from gray to pink to gold as the sun came up. The female singers were having fun and getting drunk with the bass cranked way up. He let himself pretend he was partying with them, and not curled in a pathetic ball on a borrowed bed, thinking about something he was too scared to face.

* * *

The Fantastic Four stood in the hangar of Xavier Institute, somewhat crowded around Johnny. Susan’s hand was on one of his shoulders, Reed’s hand was on his other shoulder, and Ben stood protectively behind him. They had announced that they were leaving; they had received another distress call from Bishop. It had become apparent that they would be cleaning up after the rift for some time. Three of them had drawn their shoulders back in various shows of determination.

Johnny, however, stood withdrawn at their center, brows puckered, eyes downcast, gaze far away. His sleepless night was evident in the red streaks spidering out towards his ocean blue irises.

“You’re really going?” Jubilee pouted.

“Yes,” Reed confirmed. “We’re really going.”

“Well, come back any time!” Jubilee threw her arms around Johnny’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. He didn’t even bother to hug back. Jubile noticed his expression when she pulled away. “What’s up with Mister Sourpuss?”

Johnny looked away.

“Long night,” Ben supplied.

“As Jubilee said,” The Professor added, “All of you are welcome to join forces with our X-Men whenever you need.”

“We will be happy to assist you,” Ororo added.

“Zis doesn’t haf to be good-bye,” Kurt said, looking a little sad.

“Yes,” Hank added, “All of you are welcome at the Institute.”

“Thank you,” Reed said, speaking for his team, “but we have our own headquarters which we should be getting back to.”

“I understand,” the Professor said. “Thank you for aiding us. We know it has not been easy on you.”

A few pairs of eyes turned toward Johnny, who seemed to only shrink further into himself.

“Aw,” Gambit said, hobbling into the room, using his bo staff as a cane, “Did Ah miss de good-byes?”

Johnny’s eyes lit up for the briefest moment before his expression shuttered and he looked away.

“No, Gambit,” the Professor answered.

“Thought you were bed-ridden,” Ben commented.

Gambit hobbled closer. “Only fo’ de nex’ couple weeks or so.” His lopsided smile was tinged with pain.

“He shouldn’t be on his feet right now,” Jean said, following a pace behind him, “but he wanted to see you off,” she said, addressing the Fantastic Four.

All three backed away from Johnny as Gambit stood in front of him. Johnny shrank desolately into himself.

“Wha’s de matter, cher?” Gambit said in a very low voice.

Johnny refused to meet Gambit’s eyes. His mouth jumped into a bad parody of a smile that faded awkwardly away. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Gambit lifted his free hand to cup Johnny’s cheek. “Ya didn’ sleep?”

Johnny shrugged.

“Johnny,” Gambit said softly, voice rich with emotion. The back of his hand trailed down Johnny’s face. “Talk tu me,” he pleaded.

The youngest member of the Fantastic Four remained silent, staring at the floor over Gambit’s shoulder. He seemed dangerously close to crying.

Gambit noticed this. Red-and-black eyes filling with empathy and care, he carefully pulled Johnny into a loose hug.

Johnny stiffened. His eyes filled with tears. His face crumpled. He threw his arms around Gambit and buried his face against Gambit’s collarbone.

Gambit released a pained sound; his bo staff clattered to the ground. Wincing, he wrapped his arms around Johnny’s shoulders and cradled him close. “C’est bon, cher.” His voice was slightly strained. “Je suis là,” he murmured into the back of Johnny’s neck. “Je suis là,” he repeated, softer.

Johnny mumbled something into Gambit’s chest. They had a muffled conversation, too quiet for anyone else to hear, but whatever was said, Johnny’s grip loosened, and when he pulled away without letting go, he looked less like he was going to cry and more like he thought Gambit had hung the moon.

And Gambit was looking at Johnny like the moon shone only for him. “Call me when ya can,” he said quietly, pressing a small rectangle into Johnny’s hand.

Johnny held the rectangle up to look at it. Shock flickered into warm adoration. The card in his hand was a fresh two of hearts. Across the middle, Gambit had written his cell phone number in fuchsia pen. Johnny pocketed the card, careful not to bend it.

“Vous allez me manquer,” Gambit said softly, holding one of Johnny’s hands between his own. “Je vais compter les jours jusqu'à ce que vous revenez.”

Wolverine made a sound halfway between a laugh and a gagging noise. Jubilee frowned at him curiously. “What did he say?”

“What?” Johnny echoed, giving Gambit a clueless look.

Gambit’s expression which was cavity-inducing. “Stay safe.” He kissed Johnny’s knuckles.

Johnny’s expression was adoring and starstruck, his cheeks pinker than Gambit’s costume. “Oh.”

“And with that,” Ben said loudly, yanking Johnny by the shoulder away from Gambit and steering him towards the Fantastic Four aircraft, “I think we’d better be going.”

“See you, Remy!” Johnny called over his shoulder.

“See you, cher.” Gambit was cupping his side, pain bleeding back into his expression. Jubilee scampered to his side and handed him his bo staff. Gambit accepted it gratefully.

“You know I’m not gonna be able to listen to Cher anymore without thinking of you,” Johnny called as Ben continued shepherding him onto the aircraft.

“Come on, ya runt!” Ben grunted.

Reed and Susan followed.

“No seriously!” Johnny’s voice continued after they had all boarded and the ramp began to retract. The last thing they heard was Johnny belting the refrain to ‘Do You Believe In Life After Love’.

* * *

* * *

Several old men of various sizes and shapes sat gathered around a large, oval hardwood table, polished to a glassy sheen. All of them were wearing suits. The man at the head of the table swiveled around in his chair, glowering. “I think we can all agree on one point: the superheroes are out of control.” His deep voice rumbled across the table like a roll of thunder.

A grim middle-aged man with his hair slicked back leaned forward and pounded his palms across the table. “They destroyed government property! They have refused all interviews, they have issued no apology, nor any explanation for destroying government property, which, by the way, was a _huge_ overreaction on their part—they have refused to cooperate, refused surveillance-! I say it is time to take action!” He slammed fists on the table to punctuate these last two words.

“What is it you propose we do?” asked the old man at the head of the table.

“I’m glad you asked,” said a third man, whose graying black hair was slicked back to match his greasy smile. He stood and beckoned towards the double doors. They opened simultaneously as a metal suit stepped through.

“An iron suit?” someone asked. “Hasn’t Iron Man already done that?”

“It’s _so_ much better than that,” the greasy man said. He pressed a few buttons on the remote control he was holding. The metal suit stood at attention. “This model,” he explained, “is merely a prototype. I assure you, my men are working on the final product as we speak.”

“What does it do?” rumbled the old man at the head of the table.

The greasy man grinned. “Exactly what we want it to do. These robotic suits will detect and monitor all super-powered humans. They are equipped with state-of-the-art video and audio devices, weaponry- just in case the ‘supers’ decide to get a little feisty, or get it into their heads that they are somehow above the law- and they are completely remote-controlled. We send them out for twelve hours a day, call them back home, re-charge them for the next day, and send out the second sweep for the other twelve hours of the day. And so on. The point is, gentlemen, we will have surveillance of our streets and cities, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. No longer will the so-called ‘superheroes’ face no consequences for their actions. We will know _exactly_ what they are up to, twenty-four seven.”

“Have these been tested?”

“Only in controlled conditions,” allowed the greasy man, “but I assure you, we have employed top-of-the-line scientists and engineers to perform these tests. These robots—Sentinels, we call them—are fully functional and ready to be put to action. All we need, sir, is your go-ahead.”

The old man at the head of the table stared into the metal suit’s glowing circular eyes. The robot stared back blankly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!
> 
> ...or IS it?
> 
> I am still contemplating a sequel. Honestly, this feels like a universe that I could come back to over and over indefinitely.   
> Much love goes out to everyone who has read this; I am really happy to receive any and all feedback!  
> Stay tuned <3


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